The hands of time
by rozzy07
Summary: When a throwaway remark becomes frighteningly true Sam and Dean have to suffer the consequences and find a way to fix the mistake.
1. Chapter 1

**Opening chapter in my Secret Santa story for Starliteyes17 from SFTCOL(AR)S - hope you enjoy! Still putting into place as much whumpage and limpness that I can manage to blend into the up coming chapters with WeeSammy and BigDean…..!**

**Usual disclaimers about owning nothing Supernatural apply!**

**Chapter 1. A small hiccup in the scheme of things**

"What?" he barked down the phone, "This had better be important as I'm kinda in the middle of something here dude."

The fingers of his other hand, as he talked, continued working their own magic and the girl murmured appreciatively. All she knew was that she didn't want him stop so had leant up to whisper her annoyance at the intrusion "Make him go away baby. I need you!"

She didn't hear the caller's voice but saw how the man on top of her face darkened as he spat out darkly. "And you're ringing me to tell me this, now? Go get a life you moron and let me have one of my own for one night…"

Growling as the caller said something in return he snapped back, 'Jeezuz this could have waited till tomorrow. Hanging up on you now geek boy…"

Click. The phone went dead and he threw it onto the bedside table and turned his attention back to his prize and he shook his head in apology. "Sorry for that baby. Little brother has issues. It was so much easier when he was smaller and I could lock him in a dark closet and keep him under control. He just goes a little loopy this time of year and all."

"Lots of little boys do…" 

He laughed softly at the notion of his brother as 'little' but cool hands wrapped around his neck and pulled his mouth down to meet her as she whispered up promisingly.. "Perhaps I can grant you deepest desires this year if you play your cards right tonight big boy…"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Despite the interruption at the beginning of his night he had managed to put all thoughts of his brother to one side enjoying the attention of the prettiest blonde he had seen in a long time, whose expertise and stamina matched his own. It was criminal having to leave her halfway through the night but duty called and a certain little brother would be waiting up anxiously for him to return he guessed.

Spook hunting at this time of year was just so freaky that he wished his little brother could just switch off and mellow out a bit. They both could do with some R & R for a few days he figured, and when he got back he was going to point out to his brother the error of his ways and get him into touch with what time of year it was.

Humming to himself he swung into the motel parking lot and realised that if he was lucky he could angle another few hours sleep.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

A soft tug on his shoulder made him groan out loud and he shoved his face further into the pillow resisting the pull to bring him fully awake. "Go away," he growled, not willing to give up yet on getting more sleep. "Leave it out Sam. Go do your geek stuff and let me grab a few more hours shuteye."

Still the hand persisted in shaking him and whispered in a frightened voice. "Daddy, where's Dean?"

His eyes shot open in disbelief at the voice, a familiar sound that he hadn't heard in an age. Again the small hand on his shoulder persisted and the voice wavered, "Daddy where is he? Did he go to school without me? I think he's playing tricks again, cos I can't find any of my stuff."

"Sam?" queried Dean his heart in his mouth as he turned to face the voice. The scream that met him on turning made him physically jump as the small boy before him took in the fact that he was not John Winchester. And was most certainly not his daddy.

The little hand withdrew at lightening speed and the small towel clad figure before him disappeared in a mad dash to the bathroom, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Open mouthed Dean stared numbly at the locked door, hardly able to comprehend what his eyes had just witnessed. His ridiculously tall brother of twenty-three years was now a small skittish child of no more than six years in age. None of this was at all possible in the realm of all things normal. But then again when was anything normal for a Winchester?

"Sammy?" he managed to gasp out, still not quite believing his own eyes but that familiar glimpse of the dark mop of hair that had followed his brother throughout his life could not be mistaken. His little brother was exactly that again. Little.

Lurching to his feet to follow after the child he found the door firmly locked. Knocking on it lightly he heard the fearful intake of breath behind the thin wood and could only guess what was going through the youngster's mind right now. "Sammy? It is you, right?"

"Go away," came back the desperate response. "My daddy is coming back Mister, you wait and see, and then he'll be really angry and is gonna kick your butt."

He didn't want to cry and he fought back desperately against the tears threatening to spill. All he knew was that his daddy and Dean were gone, and he wasn't meant to be alone. Not ever. But here he was left by himself with a strange man banging on the bathroom door calling his name.

When he had woken up all his things were gone, even his pyjamas that he was sure he had been wearing when he went to bed the night before, and as strange as that was at least he had thought daddy was still asleep even if Dean wasn't here. He really had thought that Dean was playing a silly game again, just like when he had made his sneakers disappear for a day.

Biting his bottom lip his mind raced frantically trying to understand what was going on. Perhaps dad and Dean had gone out to get some breakfast and they knew this strange man. Was he a friend of daddy's like Aaron or Bobby? He shook his head firmly in denial trusting in his brother and daddy to have told him about this stranger before leaving him alone with him.

And just where were his pyjamas? Or his shoes even? Was his brother really trying to play a mean game on him, because this wasn't funny. Not at all. So despite all the times he had been told not to he started to cry, not able to understand why or where his dad and brother had gone. Now tears rolled freely down his face as he sat shivering on the floor, knowing that he was trapped alone with some scary guy on the other side of the door. And that he was scared.

"You have to go away," he sobbed softly through the wood. "My brother is coming back for me and he'll be really mad if he finds you here."

Dean could hear the painful hiccupping sobs coming from the bathroom and he knocked a little bit louder. "Come on Sammy, I don't know how this has happened but it really is me - Dean. Open up. Please."

"I don't believe you," screamed the small voice again. "Go away - you're not my Dean." Anxiously the boy searched the small bathroom for an escape but the only way out was through the bathroom door, which he couldn't risk opening it, not with that weird guy in the other room.

Persisting with the softly-softly approach Dean tried to coax his brother out of the bathroom, sensing just how afraid he was. "Honestly little brother it's me, Dean. You have to open up and let me see what I can do to fix this all."

"My brother isn't big like you," responded Sam hotly, brushing his tears away with his small fists. He kicked the door with the heel of his foot anger momentarily replacing his fear. "You're a big fat ugly liar and if you don't go away I'm gonna scream and scream until a policeman comes."

"Oh God," groaned Dean out loud. The absurdity of the situation hit home and he sat down on the carpet crossed legged shaking his head. 'This is freaking impossible.' he wanted to shout out loud, and but for the fact that the child behind the door was his brother, shrunk down in size and age, he would have headed for the nearest bar for more than a few shots of tequila to steady his frazzled nerves.

"Listen kiddo, I really am your brother. It's just that you got small again." Dean waited a moment for a response but the silence lingered and he tried to put himself in a six year old mind and body and realised just how difficult it would be for him to comprehend such a sweeping statement. "You know what we do, right? Hunt things that are strange and that sometimes weird things happen."

He could imagine his brother nodding his head silently in the other room. "Well Sammy I think something did this to you. Made you a little kid again. Weird, eh?"

"But I am a kid," answered Sam through the door, perplexed. He was the same age as he was yesterday. "And Dean's eleven - not old like you, not like daddy."

Dean wanted to laugh at the reference to being considered old but being only six Sam would think him near ancient no doubt. "Well Sammy, I know your smart and you can think things through. But if I wasn't your brother how would I know what your favourite things are."

"You don't know…" answered Sam, now standing with his ear pressed to the door listening as the man spoke to him softly as a familiar connection gnawed in his tummy. Could this really be his brother?

"Oh yeah kiddo? Lucky Charms for breakfast, macaroni for dinner and gummie bears in between no matter how many times I tell you not to. Or that your favourite cartoon character is Lion-O from Thundercats." Pausing he smiled at another memory adding. "Or that the first girl you kissed was called Jenny …"

He heard the gasp of surprise through the door, and he quickly added. "Listen dude, hell I know this must be really scary for you but trust me I would never ever let anyone hurt you. I'm your big brother after all."

Stubbornly Sam shook his head not wanting to be persuaded by the softly spoken man. "I don't care what you say Mister. Daddy's says just cos I'm little doesn't make me stupid, you know. You just can't be Dean…."

Sighing Dean searched the room to see if anything might convince his brother of the truth. On the nearby side-table was yesterday's newspaper and he leant across to snatch it up. "Okay, kiddo, let me ask you one thing. Do you know what today's date is?"

"It's nearly Christmas," answered Sam suspiciously. "Dean promised me that we would see Santa if I was really good today."

"Did I?," answered Dean, trying to recall making such a promise, and guessing that he must have or his brother wouldn't have said it. Still he needed to get his brother to open the door and he persisted. "But do you know the year Sammy. Can you remember that?"

Snorting at the notion that he could be thought dumb enough to forget such a thing he answered grumpily. "It's 1989 – why don't you know how to count Mister?"

"Well see that's our problem Sammy because it's not 1989 anymore kiddo, but actually 2006." He waited for a response but was only met with a stubborn silence. "Look I'll push the newspaper under the door and you can check the date. Okay?"

The rustling of the newspaper being picked up pricked his ears and he heard the small gasp of surprise sneak through the wood. "Look Sam, I'm gonna turn the TV on and you can listen to the news. That will let you know that what I'm telling you is true."

Hastily he got back on his feet and pulled the television unit closer to the bathroom. When he pushed the on switch the screen fuzzed noisily to life and the room filled with a newscaster reporting on the financial markets and the date like magic was mentioned.

Thanking the heavens for such a lucky break Dean quickly waded back in. "Now do you understand brother? It's you that's been made small and not me made bigger. Open up now and let me sort this out."

Not wanting to kick down the door and frighten the child even more he fought down his natural instincts but having this divide between him and his brother was not going to get this frigging mess fixed.

He hadn't realised that he had even been holding his breath until he let out a large exhale as the lock clicked and the door slowly opened. A scared head popped around the half open door and confused eyes looked up at him questioningly through a sea of dark hair. "Dean?" he stuttered out, daring to believe that this was all true.

"Yep – the one and only." he kneeled down and reached out a hand and beckoned for him to come out. Hesitantly the young boy timidly stepped out from behind the door, struggling to keep a towel around his body, shivering slightly in the cool room.

Dean studied the small form in front of him and balked again at the knowledge that this truly was his brother. Seventeen years had been wiped of the clock it seemed and the small figure before him just looked so confused and lost. Instinctively he reached out and brushed the hair away from the boy's eyes ignoring the way he flinched under his touch. "You need to get that cut Sammy…."

Tear filled eyes met his, and the quiver on the young boy's chin as he fought down the need to cry made him remember too many times in the past that he had seen that same look on his brother's face. Trade mark Winchester suck it up and don't let it out mode in full play once more.

Slowly he folded the boy into his small hug and whispered on the crown of the child's head. "It will be okay. I'll get this all sorted out Sammy. Don't be scared. Okay?

He felt the child give into the hug and his small voice suddenly asked. "Why have I got no PJ's?" Suddenly his lack of clothing had become his primary concern, accepting now as fact that this tall man was his brother made big.

Dean laughed brokenly and shrugged his shoulders. "Damned if I know little brother. The way this morning is going I can only guess at what else we're gonna find has gone missing…"

Curiously Sam pulled out gently from the warm arms to study his brother's older face and gave a soft sigh of relief noting the familiar greenness of his eyes. Tentatively he reached out with his small finger to trace a pattern across the bridge of his brother's nose and whispered in surprise. "They didn't go away."

"What didn't?" asked Dean curiously allowing the fingers to tickle his face just glad that it seemed he had gained his brother's trust.

"Your freckles, " he answered with a shy dimpled smile. "You said that you would grow out of them…. Remember? But they're still there…"

"Guess they didn't little man." Tiredly he scrunched his fingers through his short hair puzzling on the 'how and why' this might have happened to his brother. Sam sunk down onto the bed his little legs dangling halfway down to the floor looking up expectantly at him as if he would have all the answers at hand, chewing absently on a fingernail.

A memory popped into his head and Dean stood up suddenly his face dark with anger. "Damn it to hell, that little bitch…"

**TBC**

Next chapter up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Usual disclaimers about owning nothing Supernatural apply!**

**_Again this is all due to the Secret Santa wish lists over at STCOL(AR)S – so the blame lies squarely on a certain LimpSam girl's shoulders - _****_Starliteyes17, and also with you awesome reviewers who really know how to make me write just that little bit faster. _**

**The hands of time**

**Chapter 2. Big fat raindrops**

_A memory popped into his head and Dean stood up suddenly his face dark with anger. "Damn it to hell, that little bitch…"_

Sam looked wide-eyed at hearing Dean cuss so loudly and when his brother continued to pace the room angrily he asked, with more than a tinge of fear in his small voice "Dean… you mad at something? Did I do something naughty?"

Dean froze in mid-stride and twirled back to his brother, noting the alarm on the youngster's face. Shaking his head ruefully he quickly reached his side and dropped down on his knees before the frightened child taking his hands in his in a soft squeeze. "No way Sammy, you've done nothing wrong. Believe me. It's your stupid older brother that seems to have done this screw up all by his lonesome…"

Sam nodded slowly, biting his bottom lip. This was all still so very confusing and maybe Dean needed some help and he offered up a solution with a bright hopeful smile. "Perhaps you should call daddy and he will fix this all for you?"

Dean flinched visibly at the suggestion and Sam drew in a sharp breath of concern at seeing at how quickly the older man's face had darkened with a soft curse on his lips. Vehemently Dean shook his head, released Sam's hand suddenly and straightened up again and answered sharply. "Not gonna happen kiddo. We're on our own on this one."

Sam watched startled again as his brother started to pace the room seemingly deep in thought and even as small as he was knew enough when to keep his silence. Still he wondered why would it be so bad to call daddy? Or was it that Dean was fibbing when he said that he hadn't done anything wrong. Was daddy going to be mad at him once again, just like when he had asked him to take him to see Santa last week.

Shivering again he pulled the towel tighter and wanted to shout in return that this was not fair. He wanted _his_ brother back. Not this big stranger who had the same eyes and freckles of his brother but not his calmness of voice or manner. He wanted _his _Dean who could always make all the bad things right again. Snuffling quietly he drew the towel up over his shoulders and dipped his face into his chest, letting fresh tears of confusion and fear escape from him.

For Dean the little boy asking for their father had been akin to lighting a match to touch-paper. With a mighty whoosh an incendiary of emotions had been triggered and although he knew the kid in front of him wasn't the cause of his pain it still struck deep. And damn it he hurt all over again.

Blinking back his own sting of tears he turned back to the child and drew a tight breath at seeing the fear shaking through the small body. Tiredly he dropped on the bed beside him and drew him in a tight hug to him, his strength able to offset the resistance until Sam fell tightly to his chest. Again small sobs met his embrace and he smoothed down his brother's unruly hair with a comforting hand, whispering. "Shhh Sammy, don't be scared. Okay? I promise I will get this sorted."

His mind raced back to the night before and the encounter with a certain one-night-stand. He knew, in his gut, that he had to find that little blonde minx to see what exactly was her involvement with his brother's strange transformation. No one messed with his family like this. Ever.

Feeling his little brother shiver in his embrace he sighed and realised that he had to make this little boy his main priority beyond his need to get things done fast. Firstly the kid needed some new clothes as he couldn't exactly drag him around town draped in a thin threadbare motel towel as he hunted down the little bitch he reasoned. Child Services would have field day with that one that's for sure.

Remembering their journey into town he recalled the Wal-Mart a few blocks back and guessed that would have to be his first port of call. With a quiet authority he pulled the child's face up with one hand to meet his gaze, and said. "Okay Sammy like I said I will get things back to normal. But see I need to go shopping for a few things for you."

He watched the small boy nod silently his tears drying on his cheeks and he continued. "Now I can guess your clothes size no problem little man but I need you to hop onto the newspaper on the floor so I can draw round your feet to get your shoe size. Okay?"

Again Sam nodded but didn't move and Dean picked him off his lap and put him squarely down on the floor onto the loosely strewn newspaper, masking his amusement as Sam fiercely drew the towel tighter around his waist. "Okay Sam lets find out just how freaky big your feet are."

Sam scoffed a small laugh at the notion, wiggling his bare toes on the paper as he eyed the man in front of him. "Well at least my feet will never be as big as your big fat ugly ones…."

Dean cocked an eyebrow of surprise at the sass in the young boys voice. "Oh you wish little dude."

With a large marker pen he drew around the small twitching feet eliciting a few childish giggles whenever he touched skin or toe and he smiled broadly in return. The tension of a few moments before had vanished and he felt grateful for the gentle soul that made up his brother. And his ticklish feet. No matter what age he might be.

After going over the ground rules to make sure a way too smart six year old remained out of trouble he realised that he really did need right now was to get his own act together. As he dressed quickly he kept up a small monologue. "So you understand kiddo I'll be back as quick as I can. I just can't risk taking you out like this."

He waved a hand over the towel-clad form of his little brother. "People will think it a little odd you walking around like the freaking Dali Lama, okay? I should be back in less than it takes for you to get bored with watching the cartoons."

Sam nodded, puckering up his brow as he couldn't help but ask. "What's a Deli lamer?"

Dean laughed, patting his brother on the shoulder, "Nothing for you to worry about." Then his face became serious, not really happy with having to leave the small child alone even if it was only go to be a short period of time. "So you know the drill, right? Don't answer the phone unless you see it's me calling. Don't open the door no matter what, and most importantly don't…"

"I know, I know, don't do anything stupid." Sam rolled his eyes up to his brother's concerned face and then offered him up a reassuring dimpled smile asking in a small hopeful whisper. "It's gonna be just like Christmas, isn't it? All new things…"

Dean nodded feeling a little guilty at the boy's excitement and guided him back to the small armchair to watch the TV tucking a blanket around him to keep him warm. Making sure that he was settled he redrew fresh lines of salt and checked to make sure the windows were locked. The only way in was through the main door and he could double lock that and just prayed he was doing the right thing.

"Okay, Sammy," he called out as he left the room. "Stay here and I'll be back before you can even think of missing me." Dean cast a measured eye over the small boy, a familiar feeling sitting in his heart at seeing the rapt look on the youngster's face. Move over Thundercats he thought wryly, as a big yellow sponge in shorts now had his brother's total attention.

Sam merely gave him a quick unfocused grin before turning back to the cartoon flickering from the TV. Sponge Bob Square Pants had to be the strangest thing he had ever seen before but he couldn't help but like it. Just wait until he told his friends about this new show at school.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

When the cartoon ended he yawned with a long stretch feeling the rumbling of hunger starting to make itself felt. He looked up at the clock on the wall and watched the second hand ticking round. Dean would be back soon, he told himself. Big Dean. Just like daddy. He was safe here. Still for reassurance he fingered the small cell phone in his hand, surprised once again at how light it was. Daddy's phone was so much bigger than this.

Wiggling his naked toes he knew that no way was he like a ticklish Jello Monkey wobbling all over the place like Dean had said. Sometimes his brother was just plain silly he thought as he sat there softly giggling to himself, thinking just how strange this would all sound when he got to tell it all to daddy.

Soon bored with the Scooby Doo cartoon his fingers reached for the remote control and he aimlessly channel hopped through the various stations landing on the final one to blink rapidly, his head titling at an angle to try and understand what he was seeing, his mouth falling open in astonishment.

Just then the motel door opened and in strode his brother. "I'm back Sammy," he called out kicking the door shut behind him with a loud bang. It took but a quick glance of his head to where his brother sat to galvanise him into action. The packages in his hands fell to the floor with a thud as in a mad dash he crossed the room to turn off the TV set, a stream of curses following on his heels as he turned more angry with himself to face the kid. "Jeezuz Sammy…. how long you've watching this stuff."

"I just turned it over cos Scooby Doo was really boring and I…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged guessing that this was something that he could embarrass his brother with later noting the deep flush of his cheeks. Though why he still wasn't sure of yet.

"Well don't do that again. Hell, do you want to go blind dude before your 7 years old?" Dean let out a shaky breath, his heart beating madly in his chest. Bad brother status was firmly tattooing itself invisibly across his forehead he guessed as he watched the confused expression on the young boy's face.

Sam shook his head blankly, still trying to process what he had seen but finally he found his voice. "Dean what was that lady doing…" he paused and frowned, before adding a quiver in his voice. "Dean, will I really go blind?"

Dean put up his hands and shook his head in warning. "Well if you're telling me the truth and you just turned it over, then no you'll be fine. As for what she was doing lets just say I don't think your ready for that little 'birds and the bees talk' right now, alright? Next time stick to the goddam cartoons."

Wiping the small band of sweat of his upper lip he just prayed that the inquisitive child would take the hint and not ask anything more. Biting his bottom he cursed himself for not blocking the channel. Still he reasoned, adult channels should be banned from early morning viewing in middle America. It was just plain indecent!

Deciding a change of direction was in order he nodded over to the bags on the floor. "So Sammy lets see if the stuff I got you is any good."

With a small whoop of delight the child jumped out the chair, his recent viewing experience forgotten and he hurried over to the bags. This is just like Christmas he told himself as he dragged out a Spiderman T-Shirt hugging it with delight to his chest. Bright eyed he looked up at his brother and threw him a wide smile of delight, daring to believe that all of this stuff was just for him.

All of it was new, not the usual hand-me-downs from Dean or cast offs from Pastor Jim's parishioners. All brand new. He couldn't contain his delight and jumped up and grabbed his brother's legs in a tight hug. "Thank you Dean. You're the best brother in the whole world."

Dancing in the tight grip of the little boy's excitement Dean grinned down at his brother ruffling the dark curls affectionately. Seeing the utter joy on his brother's open face he felt that for once he had done something really good. Who would have thought that a simple t-shirt and new trainers could be worth so much in the eyes of a six year old child.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

After wolfing down a plate of pancakes and syrup at the local diner washed down with ice cold milk Sam was more than happy to let Dean drive him around. His stomach felt full and the warm December sunshine felt good on his face. All he knew as they drove around that Dean was on a hunt and he had to be real good, real quite.

Still he couldn't help but sit in the back of the impala with a silly grin on his face as he kept casting admiring glances at his new clothes. With two much sugar running through his veins he found it hard to sit still and fidgeted about kicking his feet out to inspect his new trainers hitting the back of the seat for the hundredth until Dean growled a warning at him and he instantly stilled. "Sorry Dean," he muttered under his breath and his feet shot downward, still a little afraid of the bigger Dean when he spoke like that. He sounded too much like dad to ignore.

Dean nodded and focused his attention on the road ahead. The bar from last night came into view and the impala swung lazily into the parking lot. Parking up he watched as a few patrons staggered in and out. Looking through his rear-view mirror he sighed, all to aware that he couldn't take his brother into such a place. Biker bars and six year kids just didn't not mix.

Still the only way of finding that girl was in that bar. Someone had to know of her. It was his only concrete lead to go on. It was the _only _ lead he had to go on. His gut told him that she had to be cause of all this. She had done this to his brother and that little bitch, the witch, no matter how good in the sack, was dead as soon as he got his hands round her scrawny neck.

Still looking at those hopeful eyes staring back him he knew what he really needed right now was his own personal nanny for the day, but looking around he knew they were in short supply in this rundown part of town, with the nearest to a surrogate mother in this neck of the woods being the transvestite standing for trade on the street corner down the block.

Shuddering at the thought Dean tried to think of a way round this. Leaving Sammy alone in the biker bar car lot was not his idea of good parenting, even by the often piss-poor John Winchester standards they had been raised by. Sam needed to be with him but how? He needed a way in, to get that witch's address all the while keeping his brother safely by his side. Leaving him alone in a motel room had been dangerous enough. But in a car, in broad daylight, it would be just criminal.

Suddenly his eyes narrowed as an idea took hold and he turned to Sam with a smirk. "Sammy you up to playing a little game with your big brother. It means you have to be real grown up when I take you in there. And you have to act up a storm when I give you the nudge 'cos god help us we are so going to need your puppy dog eyes and dimples to pull this one off, kiddo."

Sam's eyes glinted with excitement as he asked. "Is it a good game Dean. Is it going to be fun..?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dennis Stone was used to seeing many sights walk into his bar, day and night, but never this. His meaty fists released the drying cloth that he had been using to buff down the bar and he shook his head before growling out loud across the room. "Just what the hell do you think your doing Mister bringing that kid in here? Get the hell out of here, and take the little runt with you, before I lose my goddam frigging licence."

A few patrons looked up from their beer too watch the scene unfold, thinking that as soon as Stone reached the man and the little boy they would both out the door so quickly the froth on the top of their beer would not have had time to settle.

Still Dean, hidden skilfully under a baseball cap and shades, held his ground as the giant of a man angrily marched over to him. Offering up his hands in supplication he kept his normal cocky manner masked under a trite air of contrition, all the while keeping Sammy safely behind his legs.

"No please Sir, I need to find my little boy's mama. She went missing a few days back and he ain't gonna rest till she comes home." He gave the nudge Sammy had been waiting for and the wailing began. "He misses her something fierce and all…and Burt said he saw her here last night with some dude."

Sammy knew what tears to pull out of the hat, having had to use them enough time with their dad for real too many times recently. Especially when he had to use them to get him or Dean out of trouble or get something that he really wanted. Tears were easy. That's why he always got the best part in the school plays.

That why he stopped Dennis 'razor fists' Stone in his tracks. Big fat raindrop tears rolled down his pale cheeks and mixed with the way his small hands fisted into his 'daddy's' jeans the bartender just melted.

"Fuck," he heard himself saying out loud. "Get the kid to stop why don't you. Please. Just follow me to the back and I'll see what I can do…"

Dean nodded, and patted the boy on the head before dragging him out in front of him, offering up the tearstained youngster as bait to pull the information out of the bartender. "See Sammy I told you we get some help in finding your mama. Hush up now child and let me speak to this nice man. We'll get her home before Christmas. You'll see."

"Before Santa comes?" asked Sam doe-eyed watching the bartender expectantly and again Stone felt himself at the mercy of the needs of a too adorable six year old.

"No kid should be without his mama this time of year," he muttered sorrowfully under his breath as he walked to the back room with Dean and the child following at his heals. "Tell me what this wife of yours look like?"

Damn, thought Dean with a surge of pride glancing quickly down at his brother. The kid was good. Damn good.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

He threw a few dollars down on the bar, his dark eyes following the retreating figures and licked his lips. The child shone like a beacon so brightly that it pealed off him in undulating waves. When the trio had passed by him he could taste the power held within the innocent form and knew that here was an opportunity not be wasted. Fingering his cell he left the bar and quickly dialled once outside, away from prying eyes and ears. When a gruff voice answered the small wiry man spat out hurriedly. "Come meet at Pat's place. I think I've found us the perfect little present to give to her."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

_**TBC**_

_**Get ready for WeeWinchester LimpSammy up next!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Usual disclaimers about owning nothing Supernatural apply! All mistakes, Freudian (lol) or not are all mine!**

_**Inspired by the Secret Santa wish lists over at STCOL(AR)S as requested by Starliteyes17 (hope you're enjoying the angst girl!). Again I am late with my thanks to my reviewers but you've all helped me get this latest chapter up far quicker than is normally possible for a slow coach like me! **_

**The hands of time**

**Chapter 3. Light in the darkness**

The large bartender watched out of the corner of his eye as the small child swung his feet freely on the tall barstool, slurping happily a cola as one of his regulars kept him amused. Maisey may well look like a third rate Dolly Parton on a bad wig day but she had a soft heart and the little boy didn't seem to mind her attention.

Dean could see how Sam was affecting the bartender and held in check a smirk. Holding out his cell he clicked on a picture he had taken the night before, a little reminder he had told himself that he could look at later when the alcohol had worn off. The girl in the picture with her blonde locks falling past her shoulders and a 'butter wouldn't melt in her mouth smile on her face' reinforced Dean's feeling of guilt.

Last night he had put his own needs above his brother, had brushed his brother's phone call aside for a romp in the sack. And look what had happened. He had been around long enough with supernatural mojo to know that this girl and his brother's current state were no coincidence.

Still how she had manoeuvred such a transformation when he had kept her busy all night long was a mystery he would have to squeeze out of her once he got hold of her again, his hands round her scrawny pasty neck if necessary.

"This is her man. She just upped and left a few nights back….and Sammy,," he shrugged his shoulders in mock defeat and the bartender nodded taking a squint at the phone.

"Yeah I remember her. Fresh new face and pretty with it. Not gonna miss that in a hurry." Dennis paused as if recalling something else. "She may have left something behind."

Hurrying back over to the bar with Dean fast on his heals he quickly leant over the wide wooden bar and reached under to the shelf below, grunting under the strain before standing up with a flourish of something red.

A silk scarf was in one large hand and Dean's eyes widened in memory. She had that wrapped alluring around her long neck when he had first clocked eyes on her. Red scarf to match a red dress. He took it from the larger man with a nod. "Yeah that's one of hers," he winced, the faint lingering smell of her perfume hitting his senses. "Suppose you don't know where she might be staying or anything else?"

"Look man I'd love to help you and yer kid more but all I know is that she ain't no regular and seemed interested in only the one guy last night. Sorry to tell like it is mister, but…"

"Yeah, yeah…I know. Still I have to find her. For the kid's sake." Not needing to lie for once he felt the guilt roll over him again. He really did need to find her but any leads were fast bottoming out.

The only thing concrete that she had been real was this scarf. A spark glinted in his eyes thinking of a way to use this to his advantage. "Thanks man," he offered up genuinely to the older man before swinging back to his brother. "Come on Sammy we got things to do. People to see."

Sammy gave a brief dimpled smile at the woman who had been mothering him and jumped down lightly to the floor. "Did you find her. Did you?" he asked brightly his small hand slipping easily into the bigger hand without reservation as they walked out of the bar.

Dennis and Maisey watched them leave, both trying to hide the emphatic emotions that had been pulled out of them. Gruffly the bartender nodded over to a slightly moist eyed Maisey. "Let me by you a drink on the house," adding with a sigh. "Poor kid. Hope they find her. Did I ever tell you about my two boys?"

Maisey looked at him and nodded with a sad expression. Both had a fractured family history and she felt the familiar pang of loss. "How old are they now? Gotta be all grown up now, right?"

"Yeah Stan my eldest is in Iraq, and my youngest is still in school, lives in Florida with his ma." He rubbed his nose and his voice thickened. "Might ring the kid later. Just to see how he's doing and all."

Patting his hand lightly Maisey leant in and kissed him lightly on the cheek her beer stained breath heavy in the air. "You do that Denny, don't let distance keep you away from your boys. Not ever."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Don't look nothing special to me," scowled one of two figures standing in the shadows in a doorway across the street from the bar.

"I know you can't see it man, but believe me the kid's a frigging psychic beacon on legs?" responded the shorter rat faced man running a nervous hand over his thinning hair. Already the thought of getting his hands on the kid made him jittery.

The older broader man looked down at him with a small shrug. His dislike for the scrawny man was easily superseded with the thought of a quick profit. "If you say so Wes. This is your shit not mine. All I know is that you said she'd want him and that means we can make some easy bucks. And believe me I'm game for that."

Wes shook his head casting a quick glance up at the man who inwardly terrified him "Still Buzz getting rid of the dad ain't gonna be easy. Looks like he can handle himself."

Buzz sneered and pulled aside his jacket to show a large handgun in the rim of his pants. "Nothing that a bullet to the head won't cure, Eh?"

Wes chuckled nervously at the man's simplistic way of dealing with a problem. "Shit, you are one evil son of a bitch, ya know that?"

"Yeah I know." Buzz honestly did and didn't give a damn as he fingered the handle of his sidearm and watched the man and the kid walk to their car.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Did I do good Dean, did I?" asked Sam excitedly as they left the bar. He skipped excitedly beside him squinting in the bright sunshine as he looked up at his brother.

Dean nodded down to him and was rewarded with a flash of dimples and he couldn't help but laugh affectionately at his eagerness. "Oh yeah Sammy you did really good. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand."

Sam shook his head happy with the praise before a giggle escaped. "They thought you were my daddy Dean. I dunno but grown ups can be real silly at times, can't they?"

Dean paused mid-stride and looked down at the small child who had danced out of his hands to skip ahead to the car without seemingly a care in the world. A hollow feeling made him tremble outwardly realising that unless he managed to reverse this spell, this dark magic, that's what he would have to be to his brother. A dad.

"Come on Dean," called out Sam as he waited impatiently by the car. "You promised me pizza, remember?"

Dean swallowing down his fears and gave him a weak smile. "Okay little guy. First though I need to make a few calls, and you have to be quiet okay?"

"Yes Dean," answered Sam with an accepting nod as his brother tightened the seat belt over him in the back seat. He could sense the change in his brother, the easy smiles of before were being edged out with small lines of tension around his mouth and eyes and that made Sam worry in return.

Perhaps, he reasoned, Dean was worried about dad again. Would he be mad at him for spending so much money on his new stuff? He really didn't want to get his brother into trouble again because of him and felt suddenly miserable that he had nagged his brother into taking him for pizza and offered up in a small voice. "I don't really need pizza Dean. Spagettio's are good."

Dean turned in the drivers seat and gave him a curious look, noting the strange vibes coming from the boy. "What - you don't like pizza suddenly?"

"I don't need pizza. Honest." He looked down at his new sneakers and suddenly they no longer held the attraction they once had and he added in a whisper. "I don't want daddy mad with you for spending so much money on me. You can take some of the stuff back, and he might not notice..."

Dean reached out and lifted up the small boy's chin and met him squarely in the eye fighting down the quiver in his voice as he set his little brother straight. "Listen little man don't you ever worry about getting pizza ever again. You hear me?

Sam mutely nodded and he added. "I'm all grown up remember and money is not a problem, okay?"

_Jesus Dad you certainly did a number of us didn't you when a small kid is too scared to enjoy pizza or a new t-shirt without a bucket load of guilt to go with it?_

Shyly Sam looked up from under his fringe and whispered a confession. "I don't really like spaghetti'o's."

Grunting down his laugh, Dean keyed the ignition and the car rumbled easily out of the car lot and swung back towards the centre of town his mind racing ahead to the phone call he knew he had to make, not noticing as a small grey car followed at a careful distance.

Happy that the child was no longer fretting Dean flipped up his cell and searched out a number that he was reluctant to call. Missouri Mosely had the ability to scare the bejeezers out of him at the best of times but he knew he really needed her help with this one. A familiar voice soon answered, soft and knowing. "Dean honey. Long time no chat."

"Yeah, Missouri. Long time," and decided to go straight to the heart of the matter as there was no need to pussyfoot around with a woman like Missouri. "Look I have a situation going on and Sam needs your help."

"Sam? Dear lord I thought I could sense something. Tell me everything."

Swallowing down the burn of acid in his throat he let out a shaky breath. "Some witch cast her mojo and did a real number on him last night – really screwed him over and literally turned back the hands of time. He's a freaking little kid again - no more than six years old."

Large curious eyes stared at him from the back seat as the little boy leant forward suddenly interested in the conversation taking place, his nose scrunching in concentration, and he was just thankful that Sam held his silence.

As the conversation met an unnatural pause Dean could imagine the woman downloading the 'problem' like some psychic sponge before eventually she let out a deep sigh and answered. "Oh my, this is a real pickle that you've gotten you and your brother into this time Dean. Just how do you think I can help?"

Dean could only guess what the woman had picked clean from him already too aware of his complicity in this whole affair with her accusatory tone. Covering his guilt with a hard edge to his voice he quickly added. "I've got something of the bitch, something she left behind." Fingering the delicate fabric absently as he asked. " Can you do a reading from it."

A throaty laugh met his question. "Oh honey I'm good but not that good. Not down the phone at least. Where's about are you?"

"We're in Kentucky, a small town called Burkesville. Not far from the state line."

He waited patiently for a response, and was rewarded with some good news. "Well dear you're in luck. A good friend of mine lives nearby over in Somerton, not far from where you are at now. Go see Marjorie, she can help you."

She gave out her details and Dean nodded as he listened before she finally ended the conversation with a soft warning. "And boy take care of your brother. Keep him safe, keep him hidden until you get that spell reversed."

"Yes ma'am," he responded as a chill settled in the pit of his stomach, not daring to ask why, but knew a warning from Missouri should always be heeded. "I'll keep him safe."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The lilac and bright yellow shop frontage on the main street in Somerton stood out brightly against the more sedate businesses that lined the busy street. With a window crammed with all things relating to magical paraphernalia, from lurid tarot cards, colourful crystals, figurines of dragons and other mythical creatures the magical quality of the shop had Sam transfixed, his nose pressed against the shop window eyes wide in excitement.

A deep voice called back his attention as his brother took his hand again. "Come on Sammy, stopping licking the widow like an excited puppy. Not a good look dude!"

"Dean this shop is way cool," responded Sam as he was happily led into the dimly lit shop. Once inside he quickly twisted out of his grip and run over to the pot bellied gauzily painted pottery dragons by the main counter, his little fingers running excitedly over the cast figures.

An assistant looked at the child and then at the older man and flicked her eyes up to a sign over the counter. 'All breakages payable.'

Dean mouthed back a 'You wish' but still whistled over to Sam. "Don't go smashing anything kiddo or that chick will get her panties in a twist."

Sam sniggered, his cheeks pinking as the girl glowered over at his brother, but he still managed to nod his understanding. Sam knew when to be careful when needs be.

Taking a deep breath Dean held in check his disgust at all the new-age mumbo jumbo crap assaulting his eyes and glanced around the shop. The smell of incense hung heavy in the air and he gave a soft sneeze. Rubbing his nose his eyes soon adjusted to the dim lighting.

For a moment he faltered, wondering just what he was doing in such a place, but then he rationalised Missouri had directed him here and he had to trust her advice, because there was nothing else to fall back on.

At the back of the shop was a clearly hand painted sign for a 'Madame Garbor' in lurid red and gold italics above a doorway framed with a heavy purple satin curtain. He set his teeth into a grimace of a smile being only a few short steps from his goal, Marjorie.

Before he reached the curtain a small pale faced woman in her mid fifties stepped out tottering on four inch wedgies wrapped in a lurid green kaftan, with a head of bright pink hair and orange lipstick. She was as far removed in appearance to Missouri Mosely as the Pope was to a certain pop princess named Britney and Dean barely swallowed back a snort of laughter.

"Marjorie?" he called out tentatively as the woman locked eyes with him and was met with a set of perfect pearly white teeth in a smile of greeting.

"You must be Dean Winchester? Missy said you would be swinging by," answered the older woman her voice surprisingly husky. "Come in and let me see what I can do."

Dean paused and cast a quick glance over at his brother and the woman's eyes followed, momentarily widening in shock on glancing at the small boy before masking her surprise before it was noticed.

"Hey Sammy, come and sit over here while I talk to the lady," ordered Dean glad that his brother meekly followed and sat on large pink footstool outside Marjorie's room. Dean patted his shoulder, bent down to whisper in his ear. "Hey dude, once we get outta here we can go find that pizza, Okay?"

Instantly he was rewarded with a megawatt smile and Sam nodded eagerly. "Okay Dean."

Marjorie watched the two interact and could instantly understand why her friend had been so worried. The brothers were special, even she could sense that and as for the youngster he literally held her spellbound, realising that whatever the older Sam might possess and held back had been condensed into his smaller six year old frame so that it shone out of him like a bright halo of light.

The youngster sitting way too demurely on the stool harboured a gift that both called to her and terrified her in the same breath. Such innocence, such naked ability had to be capped, sooner rather than later or the hounds of hell would be barking at the child's heels readying to eat him whole she reckoned.

What worried her even more was what Missy had told about there being a gaggle of other parties way too interested in these two. Not healthy at all, and the sooner she gave a reading and got them the hell away from her shop the better.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Sit please", she directed to the older Winchester wanting to hurry this along as best as she could. Missouri could be mad with her later she figured, but all she wanted was to be rid of them before they attracted something dark and dangerous to them, to her.

Dean nodded taking a rickety wooden chair. "I can guess what Missouri has told you, but I need to get this fixed fast," he paused and pulled out the red scarf offering it to her with a modicum of hope in his eyes. "The bitch wore this."

Marjorie tried to stop the shake in her hand as she took the scarf but failed. A familiar tingle run up her fingers and she found herself holding her breath as a flood of images took hold. Not one of them dark or malignant.

Confused after a few minutes she dropped the scarf and looked into the worried green eyes of the man in front of her. "I don't understand, she meant no harm, there was no dark intent. She only did what you wished…."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam waited as patiently as he could for his brother but the shop had too many interesting things to see to be ignored. Silently he snuck off the small stool and tiptoed to the corner of the shop were a large collection of strange posters and books were stacked.

At first he didn't see the small girl standing in the shadows as he turned avidly the pages on a book of dragons but when she finally reached out and touched his shoulder he let out a large yelp of alarm and the book fell to the ground with a thump. Her fingers were like ice freezing the delicate skin under the jacket and t-shirt so that he squirmed under the burning touch.

"Don't touch me!" he cried out in alarm, backing away from the shadowy girl, confused why she had hurt him so. The girl whispered a soft plea and slipped back into the shadows and he gulped down a sob of fear and ran back to the pink stool before his brother discovered that he had disobeyed his order.

Curling his knees tight up to his chest he tried to ignore the presence of the girl as she lingered behind the bookcase. "Go away, I don't wanna play hide and seek," he shouted out loud enough to bring his brother racing out of the other room.

"Sam what's going on here?" demanded Dean anxiously dropping down to his knees beside his little brother.

Sam pointed nervously to the far corner of the shop and Dean quickly scanned the area noticing the large open book dumped on the floor but little else. "What is it Sammy?" he asked again a little softer noting the fear in the youngster's eyes.

"She wants me to play with her, but she don't play nice," sniffled the small boy rubbing his shoulder and didn't resist when his brother took his hand away to pull down his shirt to see why he was rubbing it so hard. A red hand print had clearly marked the flesh and Dean hissed for his brother and asked quickly. "Who did this to you? Is it still here?"

Marjorie stood in the doorway and shook her head. "The spirit has gone, hasn't she dear?" she asked gently of the child relieved that he nodded a yes, offsetting any potential damage to her shop with a mad Dean tearing it apart hunting for the thing that had dared to touch his brother.

"What the hell happened," demanded Dean of the woman, picking up his brother to his waist to make sure that nothing else could get at him. He had thought him safe just outside the room in an open shop. Not a mistake he was about to make again in a hurry.

"Your brother is a little bit special," responded Marjorie with a soft shrug offering up a small smile to the kid who was looking back and forth between the two with a tinge of alarm on his face. "Its okay sweetie, don't you worry so."

Dean pulled his brother closer to him and felt the small arms wrap around his neck tighter. "Yeah I know that. But why would a spirit do this to him? Shit, he's only a little kid."

_How the fuck am I supposed to protect him now against something that I can't even see?_

Marjorie sensing the panic in the man took his arm and squeezed it softly. "Listen Dean from what Missouri told me your Sam grew up strong and independent after years of hunting. His abilities were latent, held in check and then when they did emerge he was able in many ways able to project enough of a psychic barriers to stop him attracting all things supernatural to him all the time."

She paused trying to sense if Dean was absorbing this all before she continued. "Your little Sam doesn't have the luxury of those years anymore, but that gift is still there with him now, no longer latent and clearly visible to others like me and other beings, other things…."

Dean felt Sam nestle further into his collar and tried to stop the terror from sounding in his voice. "How can I protect him? How can I stop this?"

"Unless you can shut him off or make him whole again things are only going to get worse. He is their light in the darkness, Dean."

Dean stared at the older woman and could see the worry on her face, and the fear behind her words. His brother was a freaking magnet for all things dark and ugly at the best of times but now with his 'light permanently on' he could only imagine the things that would be crawling out of the woodwork to get to Sam now. And he didn't know yet how to stop it.

Sammy stirred when the silence between the adults grew to long and he looked up at his brother's grim face. "Its like magic Dean isn't it? We have to find our own magic don't we?"

Marjorie nodded at them both. "Magic did this and only magic can undo this. I will keep on trying to sense that girl for you Dean, but in the meantime you will have to keep your brother somewhere safe."

She paused, her instincts screaming a big fat 'No' as she finally offered. "You could come stay with me. At least I can put some spells of protection in place for the boy. It might keep him safe just a little bit longer."

"You really don't want to do that though do you?" sneered Dean, noting the blush of fear on the older woman's cheeks and brushed her offer aside. "Look I can look after my brother just fine old woman. I'll find a way to keep him safe. It's my job anyway..."

Marjorie stood as tall as her five foot frame would allow and shook her head. "Listen son, if I could in good conscience let you walk out of that door and never see both of you again I would be so very happy. But the truth is that you both need help and I think at this moment in time that help is this 'old woman'. God help me."

She noted the raised cocked eyebrow from the man in surprise at her honesty and rocked on her wedgies and offered a humourless laugh. "I'm no hero boy, and my knees are knocking together like jelly and I could do with a stiff brandy right about now, but I can't just let you go out there knowing what's readying to hurt you both."

She paused and waggled a knowing finger up at Dean. "Besides Missouri would skin my behind if I let her down on this one. And we both know how scary that would be!"

Dean surrendered with a soft chuckle and felt Sam relax his grip slightly around his neck. "Okay, if you think you can help I'm not too proud to take it. We'll check out of our motel in Burkesville and meet you back here later." He paused and looked back at the little woman and gave her a genuine smile of relief that touched his eyes and Marjorie felt her knees wobble just a little bit more as he whispered. "Thank you."

Sam looked down on the woman from his brother's arms and could feel the trust coming from them both and called softly after her as his brother took them away and gave her soft wave. "Bye."

"Bye sweetie, see you soon." She waved in return and prayed that it would be sooner rather than later before she hurried back to the phone to talk once again to her friend. If anyone could guide her through the next few hours it would be Missy.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Buzz watched them leave the new age shop with a small satisfied snort. Patience was a virtue at times and the wait had been worth it as the late December afternoon was already at dusk. In the dark it would be easier to snatch the kid he reasoned. Anywhere from here to Burkesville would do just fine. His dark eyes tracked the pair back to the impala and he quickly elbowed Wes awake as he restarted the engines to follow them.

Dean watched the road carefully as he hurried back to Burkesville his senses tingling with alert. Things were escalating out of control and his need to keep his brother safe was growing incrementally. Hyper sensitive to all threats it didn't escape his attention this time to the grey car following at a distance and his left hand reached automatically for his gun. "Listen up Sammy, few things we need to checklist here. You got your phone right?"

Sam yawned tiredly in the back seat but he fingered the phone in his pocket that Dean had given him and nodded. "I've still got it Dean. I told you I wouldn't lose it."

"That's good. So you know the drill if things get a little out of hand and you need help. Yes?"

"Ring you first. Then daddy…" answered Sam confidently.

"No, not dad little guy," he swallowed down his pain at seeing the surprise in the little boy's eyes. "Not this time out. He's real busy on another hunt Sammy and you can't ring him. Okay?"

"Who do I ring then if you don't answer?" asked Sam worried that he was going to make a mistake and screw things up for his brother. "Is it Pastor Jim?"

"No Sam, if you can't reach me I want you to ring a nice lady called Missouri. I've speed dialled her for you Sammy. Just press star and 2 and it will ring. Okay?" Noting the confused expression on his brother's face he added softly. "Hey kiddo, don't worry I'm only saying this if anything happens so that you'll know what to do."

"Like a test, like at school," smiled back Sam in return secretly pleased that his brother trusted him so much. "I can do that."

"Yeah," laughed Dean assuredly. "I know you can." His foot pressed down on the gas pedal and the car thundered away, ignoring all speed limits as he hurried back to Burkesville.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Buzz saw the black car take off and guessed he had been tagged. Angrily he punched the steering wheel and gunning the gas he swerved dangerously off to a side road, the grit and dirt flying up in a cloud under the tires. If he pushed hard he could cut off the black car half way to Burkesville. The bastard wasn't going to cheat him out of his prize that easily.

He heard Wes whimpered scared in the passenger seat pleading for him to slow down and he growled. "Why don't you grow a pair and shut the fuck up or I swear I'll blow a hole in you so big in you could stick you head in it."

Wes nodded mutely. Arguing the toss with a crazy mad Buzz was never a clever thing to do and secretly he regretted having to need him at all in getting his hands on that kid. Buzz homicidal tendencies were never to far from the surface and he could only feel pity for the driver of the impala when he caught up with him.

Spinning to halt ten miles in Buzz waited in a tree covered side road, only to grin a few minutes later as the familiar thrum of the impala's powerful engine herald its appearance.

With a screech of tires he pulled out in a chase and managed to pull side to side with the other car. Cursing he saw the gun in the other drivers hand just as he pulled out his berretta and fired. A muzzle flash, the smashing of glass and tires screaming as both cars fought for purchase on the road.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean barked for Sam to hit the decks as he realised the other car had managed to catch up with them. In a smooth jerk he levelled his gun and caught the glare of the other driver and silently swore under his breath at seeing the same intent on his face as they both fired.

"Fuck" was all he managed to get out as the side window shattered and he was rained with glass. He heard Sam give a small scream of alarm at the noise but was too busy trying to keep the car level on the road before he spun off into the dirt to stop nestled in a patch of bushes. Somewhere along the line his head had whip-lashed into the steering wheel and a river of blood was blinding him from a deep cut on his forehead.

Shakily he knew he had to get his brother away from the men and turned a bloodied head to the still cowering shape. "Sammy listen to me. I want you to get out of the car and run as fast as you can and hide. Then when its safe ring Missouri."

Sam shook his head in a refusal. "I'm not leaving you Dean."

"You'll do what I say little man. Or god help me you'll get a spanking that you won't be able to sit down from for a month.," thundered Dean in his best imitation of dad.

Sam's face clouded in fear and tears soon fell. "I don't want to Dean."

Fingering his gun he tried to see where the other car was and saw that it too had run itself off the road twenty yards up. Desperately he shook his head at his brother. "Goddam it, follow my orders. I can look after myself but I can't be worried about your little ass at the same time. Now Go!"

Fear and years of training took over the six year old. An order was an order and he knew the threat of a spanking was never given lightly. Sniffling back his tears he opened the door and jumped out, momentarily puzzled as to what to do next. Should he run down the road and get help or should he hide like his brother had told him to do.

Seeing his hesitation Dean tried to struggle out of his seat and open the door but his hand to eye co-ordination was shot. "Run Sammy, hide and call Missouri," was all he was able to manage to whisper out before his head suddenly lurched forward to hit the horn in a long note as unconsciousness finally claimed him.

Sammy took that as his cue to flee into the darkness, blindly through the thicket as the impala's horn screamed in the air. Soon the blaring of the horn stopped and all he was left with was the sound of his own laboured breathing and hiccupping sobs. He could not remember ever being so frightened before and wished that Dean had called daddy and got him to come back. Daddy would know what to do with those bad men. Daddy would help Dean.

Then a new noise joined him on his panicked journey into the woods. Male voices, loud and cursing were behind him and fear made him run faster, all the while praying that his big brother would wake up soon and make things right again for him.

He didn't see the razor wire until he had run into, and was unable to stifle a scream of pain and shock as he felt it tear into his arms and legs as he struggled under its touch, before finally he was able to worm his small frame through it to fall to the other side.

Crawling away from the fencing he didn't want to think about the cuts freely bleeding on his body. He had to do what Dean had ordered him to do. Run and hide. A small dip in the ground led to a steeper incline and he rolled down it, snuffling back his tears of pain.

'Hide Sammy.' he told himself as he crawled up under the umbrella of a large dark leaved bush suddenly shivering uncontrollably in the dark night. 'You've gotta get help for Dean.'

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

**Usual disclaimers about owning nothing Supernatural apply!**

_**Inspired by the Secret Santa wish lists over at STCOL(AR)S as requested by Starliteyes17. As before I am so grateful for all the wonderful reviews. I haven't had a chance to respond personally to all of them yet as Christmas sort of took over but everyone was really appreciated. **_

**The hands of time**

**Chapter 4. A special gift**

"Where the hell is the little brat?" demanded Buzz, his fists clenching the collar of the shorter man, pulling him up on tiptoes as he vented his frustration. "If he such a freaking beacon you should be able to see him a mile off."

"He must be hiding, its dark, there's lots of places he could be," stuttered Wes as the heavier man much shoved him away with a curse.

In the blackness that blanketed the woods the kid was nigh impossible to find, and for all he knew may have made it back to the roadside and have already been picked up by someone else. They should have waited until they got back to Burkesville but he wasn't stupid enough to say that to Buzz though and held his tongue as his eyes anxiously searched out the darkness.

The way the older man was tearing apart the bushes he knew that Buzz was not going to let this one go, not with the thought of easy money slipping from his grasp. Wes bit his lip in fear and frustration as he could feel the violence building within the bigger man and just didn't want to be on the receiving end when he did explode.

"When I get hold of that little runt I'm gonna beat him senseless," snarled Buzz as he beat the bushes around him with a large stick. Buzz and Mother Nature were never in any natural balance and this little trek through the woods just pissed him off even more.

When he had seen the boy exit the impala he thought it would only take a few seconds to catch up with him, but who would have thought that such a little kid could run so freaking fast? Chasing after his meal ticket, a scrawny little bundle of psychic energy according to Wes, was not his idea of spending a good time, especially when he had made plans to blow a wad of money tonight over at Benjy's high class strip joint. Money the missing little runt was supposed to supply him with.

A sharp whistle drew away his attention away from a clump of bushes he had beating at. Wes was waiving him over and in a few strides he could see metal glinting in the moonlight and his face twisted in a vicious sneer eyeing the barrier of razor wire dividing up the area.

Patting the thin shoulder of the smaller man appreciatively he crowed out loudly, "So at least the brat is still around here somewhere."

Spinning around to assess the area with sharper eyes, twirling the large stick menacingly in his hand, he added, "I know you think you're clever hiding liking this you little runt. You'd better get your sorry ass out here double lickety quick speed because if you make me spend any longer in this stupid wood I am so gonna beat your ass when I find you. You hear me you kid?"

When he got no answer he threw in temper the heavy stick into the air so that it whacked solidly against a nearby tree trunk. Cracking his knuckles he snorted angrily over at Wes. "When I'm through with that kid not even his freaking mother will be able to recognise him."

Wes nodded mutely, thankful that at least the kid would be on this side of the woods and that helped narrow down the hunt a little bit more. Still time was against them now. How soon would it before the driver of the impala was found by some passing motorist? And then what? What would Buzz do then?

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam stilled himself, hearing the angry voices of the men from up where the fence was. Angry voices that threatened to hurt him more. Pushing himself further into the nestling foliage he gasped in pain for a brief second but managed to stop any further sound escaping despite the burning stings from the myriad of cuts criss-crossing his small frame and huddled deeper under the bush.

Taking a deep steadying breath he tried to remind himself what Dean had told him in the car. To ring a friend. Not daddy or Pastor Jim, but some strange lady his brother said would help and he really needed that now because Dean looked really badly hurt.

Waiting for the voices to disappear he curled up on his side, shivering in the cold, fighting down his tears. 'Daddy wouldn't want you crying like this', he admonished himself rubbing away the moisture from his cheeks with the cuff of his jacket. 'You're not a baby anymore and you've got to get help for Dean.' Swallowing down the last sob, the image of his brother's bloody face was a constant memory, all the time wishing that his daddy was here yet again to make it all right and safe again.

When the voices had faded and the silence nestled around him once more he pulled out the phone and pressed star and 2. His face fell apart when the line beeped at him and there was no answer. Waiting a few more minutes he tried again and still there was that annoying beeping and still no answer.

Perhaps Dean had given him the wrong number he reasoned. If he couldn't reach Dean's friend then he really would have to ring daddy, despite what his brother had told him.

Carefully he scrolled down the list of names on the screen and his eyes brightened at seeing a familiar name. Remembering what Dean had shown him earlier he pressed the green button and waited for his dad to pick up. He was startled to hear the deep timbered voice answer and he squeaked out an excited 'daddy…' before realising it was just a message and he fell silent concentrating on the words.

With a snort of disbelief as the message ended he answered in a tight whisper of annoyance. "That's plain stupid daddy. It's Dean that needs help. Why would I ring him when he needs you?"

Shaking now from the cold he tried to get more comfortable, resting against the spine of the large bush as he tried next Pastor Jim's number. The ringing tone gave him hope and he blurted out an expectant 'hello' when a voice answered.

It was woman's voice and he hesitated before asking quickly, "I need to speak with Pastor Jim. It's really important."

There was a pause and the woman's voice seemed to have softened. "I'm sorry son but Pastor Jim passed away a few months ago."

"Passed away?" queried Sam not quite sure what she meant. "So I can't speak to him?"

"No I'm sorry son, like I said the Pastor died a few months ago. Perhaps I can help you instead?"

Sam snapped the phone off and huddled into himself a feeling of desperate panic taking over. Pastor Jim dead? Why hadn't his brother told him? And why would daddy's phone have such a strange message about ringing Dean if people needed help.

There was too much to think on and his head throbbed at trying to process it all. None of this was real, it couldn't be? This was just like the bad dreams he had and that only Dean could stop.

Refusing to sit and struggle with to many scary thoughts he struggled out from under the bush, the time for hiding gone, despite how much his wounded frame protested. He needed to get back to his brother, and going back to the car to see what the men had done to him was now his only option.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Missouri listened as her old friend related the events of the day. Her phone beeped that another call was waiting but she knew just how much Marjorie needed her support right now and ignored it. "Listen honey, I know it's scary stuff but those boys really could do no better than having you battle their corner right now."

"Scary is an understatement Missy, you may be okay fighting the dark stuff but I for one just wish it had never come to my doorstep. That little boy is a danger to himself and everyone around him. He's already attracted one spirit into my shop, and that's less than ten minutes after showing up…"

"Really? Oh my, well that's not good is it?" responded Missouri, a little bit shocked at how strong the little child was projecting. "The sooner they get back to you the better. I'll fax over those protection spells and they should keep the pesky little critters away. Still Mazza you have to keep trying to locate that little witch that started all this."

"Well that's the funny thing when I did a reading there was nothing sinister at all to feel. Unless she was able to mask her true nature I do not think she meant any harm to Sam, she just did what Dean desired. I can still feel some energy from her, but locating it, her, is going to be very hard."

Missouri's face puckered up in annoyance as the phone beeped at her again, and she asked her friend. "So you're telling me that Dean wished for this and voila big Sam turns into little Sammy? Now what on earth can do that? I wish I was with you right now as I feel we would get to the bottom of this much so much quicker."

Laughing nervously Marjorie agreed. "Don't you think I don't wish that also. Missy this is creepy stuff and the coward in me doesn't know if I can come through for those boys. I'm not you."

A small snort of irritation came down the line. "Listen to me Marjorie Brown I warned you that peddling that junk in your shop would make you soft. Its time to put Madame Garbor aside and get back to what you do best."

She heard her friend sniff nervously down the line and she quickly added. " I can still remember that woman who stripped a house of a poltergeist with just a flask of holy water and prayer a few years back, so its time for you to remember just how strong you are. Have faith in yourself girl, just like I have faith in you"

"If you say so Missy," answered Marjorie with a soft chuckle at having her knuckles rapped by her old friend. She waited for some sort of come back at the other end of the line but it was eerily quiet. "Missy?" she asked concerned.

"Oh my lord", whispered Missouri finally her voice shaking. "The child was trying to call me. Even now he is reaching out."

Tears filled her eyes, at the pain rolling down to her from such a distance. "He's scared Marjorie. Something bad has happened. I can't see it clearly but those boys need you now. Hurry they're off the highway, the road back to Burkeville. Hurry."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam jumped when the phone vibrated in his pocket. He was staring at the razor wire with fresh fear wondering how to get past it and the sudden vibration made him leap backwards to totter momentarily on the lip of the incline. Finding his equilibrium he crouched down and snuck out the phone. "Hello?" he asked nervously in a whisper.

"Oh child, thank the heavens," came a soft southern accent.

"Who are you?" asked Sam cautiously not able to recognise the voice.

"I'm Missouri, a friend of your brother's." She waited for some response and could feel the child's chaotic thoughts run through her head. "I know you're scared Sam but tell me where you are? Tell me what's happened."

She wasn't prepared for the raw pain to rush down the line and felt her mind collapsing under the assault and found herself gasping out loud, fighting the flood of images exploding in her head. Still as the last fragile emotion hit her she had her answers and finally was able to say. "It's okay Samuel. I know what's happened. You just stay where you are honey. Marjorie is coming to get you. "

"The orange haired lady?" asked Sam tentatively, looking at the id on the phone to make sure that it really was his brother's friend calling. "What about Dean? I have to get back to him as those bad men hurt him. Daddy isn't here so someone has to look after him."

She heard his breath hiccup followed by the sound of the child crying and the struggle he was going through hit her again.

_// And she said that Pastor Jim is dead. Why would she say that? _

_// Why isn't my daddy here to stop the bad things as it's really really dark and I'm scared and I'm not supposed to be out alone. Not ever. _

_// Dean's head got busted up good and proper. There was so much blood. What it he doesn't wake up and daddy doesn't ever come back? _

_// Maybe daddy is still mad at me for asking to see Santa. Is that why Dean told me not to ring him? Did he find out that Dean spent so much money on me today? I don't want to make him mad anymore. _

_// That Marjorie woman smells funny, just like her shop, and I don't want to stay with her even though those dragons were really cool. _

_// Miss Goynes told me all about bears in class and there could be hungry ones in the woods readying to eat me up? And I'm cold. And those cuts sting something fierce. And I shouldn't be alone. It's too dark. _

_// Please make Dean wake up and make things right again as that bad man said he would beat me and I don't know why they want to hurt me. Why isn't my daddy here to stop them? _

"Oh honey," interjected Missouri over the child's wild rambling thoughts that took literally a nanosecond to download itself down the line. "No bears are gonna eat you Sammy. And your brother will be just fine, you just wait and see. As for that bad man, go hide until Marjorie comes and gets you. You'll be safe soon enough child. I promise."

Sam's stopped sniffling, more than a little surprised by her words and all he could mutter weakly out in return, "And Dean too?"

He wanted to be strong, just like his brother was, just like his dad expected him to be but today was just too damn scary to make the terror and panic disappear by the words of this strange woman he had never met before.

"Dean will be fine," responded Missouri with us much authority as she could feeling the boy starting to slip away from her control, "I know how worried you must be but I also know that you are also a very brave boy, so do what I say and wait for Marjorie."

"Okay," whispered Sam before finally clicking off the phone, all the while wondering about this new friend of his brother. How did she know about the bears? Had he said his fears out loud? Has she heard him crying? Oh god, now she would think him such a girl.

Struggling back down the incline to his bush of choice he scurried back under it, silently thankful that he hadn't had to go through the razor wire again. His cuts were starting to sting less but every time he moved they seemed to reopen and hurt all over again.

Cradling his chin to his knees he tried to ignore the cold seeping up through the frozen ground up his legs and back. He had to trust this Missouri woman and let them get help for his brother.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Missouri's description of Dean's car was spot on and could not be mistaken even at the odd an angle she now viewed it from. It had sheered off the road and had careered into a small thicket of bushes but the rear view was all classic impala.

"Raymond there it is," Marjorie pointed out excitedly to her nephew. As the police car pulled up behind the impala the Sheriff gave a snort of disapproval as Marjorie jumped out of the passenger seat and run over to the driver's side of the impala.

"Aunt Marjorie wait up," he cried out after her, pulling out his gun, his grey eyes searching out the surrounding area for any signs of danger. He followed after his aunt realising the she was not going to stop any time soon. She never did.

"Oh my lord, Dean!" gasped out Marjorie in horror at the bloody mess his head was in, wincing for him as she reached out and pulled him upright off the dashboard. A welcoming groan met her ears and she recalled the head wounds always looked worse than they actually were due to how much they bled. Vast quantities it appeared she reckoned slightly nauseated at the sight.

Whipping of her long silk scarf she dabbed away at the thankfully drying crimson stain on his forehead and face. She knew not to expect Sam in the car but the little boy out there without his brother at his side caused an unsettling fear to stab at her and she shook her head in worry. "Come on Dean, wakey wakey sweetheart."

"Auntie, you should wait until the medics can take a look at him," warned her nephew standing over her, trying to assess the situation as best he could. There was a lot of blood and he knew moving someone with a head injury was never a good thing.

Marjorie shook her head. "Tosh Raymond. Dean needs to wake up. That little boy is out there and needs us to get to him." Sensing his reluctance she turned her face up to her nephew. "Ray honey, I know I'm asking a lot of you but this is really important. Please trust me on this one. That little boy really needs our help now."

The Sheriff nodded, not as cognitively aware as his aunt but had enough of the gift that went down their family line to trust her implicitly. When she said that she needed his help he knew it was never going to be cut and dry case.

Freaky stuff had followed his aunt all her life, why should it be any different now. Psychics, magic spells and kidnapping had to rank high on his lists of things that he knew he would never sit down and type up in a report. He just prayed that whatever his aunt was leading him into could be covered up before his career totally bottomed out and, god forbid, his wife found out.

"Come on son give a me glimpse of those pretty green orbs of yours," teased the psychic urgently and was rewarded as the slowly awakening man stared back her with more than a hint of confusion in them. Marjorie smiled in relief only to wince in pain as a hand reached out and squeezed her wrist in alarm and she tried to soothe the man. "Dean its okay. Your safe now."

"Sammy. Where's Sammy?" he demanded, trying to pull together his last memories with his brother and with a shuddering groan he had his answer. "Oh god, I told him to run. To get away. They were coming for him."

"Who? Who was after your brother?" demanded the Sheriff only to see the wounded man flinch visibly at noticing his presence. He needed some answers before charging into the woods to find the boy. He needed to know what he was up against and how to keep his reckless aunt safe.

Marjorie quickly interjected seeing the distrust on Dean's face appear on noting the uniform. "He's my nephew Dean, Ray Brown, and despite what you might think yes you can rely on him."

Pushing aside the ache in his skull Dean slowly nodded and answered the Sheriff. "Two men, they drove us off the road. They're armed. Shot out the window. I told Sam to run. I told him to go, to ring Missouri, to get help."

Ray nodded familiar already with half of the story from his aunt. "Yeah Miss Mosely spoke with him and told him to remain hidden." Standing up straight he started to head back to his car, shouting over his shoulder. "I'll get my torch. Ring your brother and try and find out where he is. Tell him I coming to get him."

As he walked back to his patrol car he remembered the argument he had with his aunt when he said the local police should have been called straight away and not her psychic buddy that had always secretly scared the bejeezers out of him whenever they met up. A little boy, he reasoned, out in the woods hiding from men with guns needed more than a distantly challenged psychic to cover his back.

Still Missouri Mosely he knew from past encounters, was not a woman to be taken lightly and bolstered by his aunt's insistence that this fly under police radar he had given into her once again. Then again refusing Aunt Madge had always been a near impossibility, and that married with the escapades that went along with her gifts, didn't make for a dull life at times. Groaning, as he opened the trunk and rooted around for a torch he knew that he should taken uncle Herb's advice and become an accountant.

Dean watched the Sheriff leave, thankful that Sam had followed orders and had remained safe, and fumbled for his phone. Shaky fingers struggled to flip open the phone and he was grateful when Marjorie took the phone from him.

The psychic patted Dean's shoulder absently as she waited for the child to pick up and her brow furrowed in worry when there was no answer. Then she heard Dean curse out loud, his eyes locked onto the empty road in front of him fear blanching the colour from his cheeks. The grey car of the shooter was gone.

Marjorie skin prickled at the alarm rolling off him, and judging from the look of panic on the older brother's face she already knew why the child wasn't answering.

"Bastards," Dean screamed out loud, pushing up in his seat, ridding himself of that soft fuzzy feeling that had dulled his senses since he had woken up. "I'll kill them if they've hurt him. I'll fucking skin them alive and personally drag their souls down to hell itself."

"Raymond," she called out after her nephew hurriedly. "Its too late. I think they've already got him."

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Wes sucked the cut on his thumb that continued to dribble. Damn razor wire had cut like a bitch he cursed silently, feeling the stings of a dozen other cuts on his legs and arms. Still a few cuts were better than a threatened beating from Buzz if he hadn't followed after him. The remnants of a red cloth on the wire had shown then the way the kid had gone and he could only imagine what panic had driven him through the steel teeth.

The moment they had gotten over the wire and looked down the small incline he had caught sight of the youngster, still glowing like a like a thousand watt light bulb even under the heavy dark leaves of the bush he was hiding under, and this time Buzz was on him so fast he didn't stand a chance of getting away.

The terror radiating off the youngest had made his stomach well and truly turn, but thankfully that was swiftly put to rest with a large smack around the head that left the youngster instantly knocked out cold.

Buzz has thrown the now limp youngster over his shoulder like a small sack of potatoes and they had hot tailed it back to the car. The driver of the impala was still out of it and Buzz was too focused on making a quick getaway to put a much longed bullet through his head. The guy was one lucky man thought Wes. Still he couldn't help but feel sorry for the unconscious man as Buzz dumped the small child with a large thud into the trunk. This would have been his last night with his son. A son that he guessed that he would be black and blue by the morning if Buzz's driving was anything to go by as he was rolled back and forth in the small confines of the trunk. May be the kid would be lucky and escape the marring of bruises by morning because he could but guess what she would do with the child before then.

As they pulled away in a dangerous swing and a squeal of tires a distant headlight came over the lip of the road and Wes knew that they had gotten away by the seat of their pants. Razor wire cuts and all at least they had the child. Now all they had to do was make it back to Burkeville, get Buzz his money and then the exciting part of his day could well and truly really begin.

This child was one anniversary gift to her that he knew would trump all others.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

She waited patiently, savouring the full flavoured claret warming on the tongue, enjoying the silence before they all descended and demanded her attention, her time.

Curling her bare feet under her she took another sip of the wine and smiled appreciatively. Tonight was special, a time of gift giving and of taking and already so much had been promised to her. There was so much to be thankful for, to look forward to.

Already one gift lingered in a back room readying for the feast. A sweet little gift, perfectly packaged in red. Wes was doing her proud this year picking her up as she left the motel this morning. The girl was a delight and the little boy to come promised even more.

**TBC**

_I_ _think there is another chapter or two for me to squeeze out here, and I will try and post an update as soon as possible! Here's hoping you've all enjoyed Christmas and are looking forwards to a great New Year! Roz._


	5. Chapter 5

**Usual disclaimers about owning nothing Supernatural apply! All mistakes, sadly, are all mine!**

_**Written for Starliteyes17 for the Santa Wish list at STCOL(AR)S (A late xmas prezzie girl – with just one more chapter to go!) Warning for whumping, blood letting and a few choice words! Enjoy. Rozzy**_

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**The hands of time**

**Chapter 5. Tap dancing**

Sheriff Brown watched edgily as his aunt applied the last of the butterfly strips to the deep cut above Dean's left eyebrow. Now that the blood had been wiped away he could see that it probably needed stitches but the stubborn man was refusing to go to the hospital.

Since waking Dean's only concern had been about his little brother and once Ray was able to get a clearer picture of what actually had happened he had quickly called in a few favours back at the office. Soon he was armed with five possible drivers of a 1999 Grey Honda sedan in their area.

Looking over the names it was easy to match Dean's description to that of the driver and his throat had gone suddenly dry as he muttered out loud. "Jesus H Christ - Buzz Strickland."

Reginald 'Buzz' Strickland had crossed his path only once before but he had left a lasting impression. Calling him a thug for hire was being polite. In all ways he could be labelled a bonafide sociopath. What made it worse that hanging a crime on him locally was a nigh impossibility as his reputation went before him and that meant witnesses seemed to disappear fast to scared to cross him.

The man truly had no conscience to hold him back and coupled with the fact that there was nothing, but absolutely nothing, that seemed to scare him the thought of a six year old child in his hands chilled the sheriff to the bone.

Gently pulling his aunt to one side he locked eyes with Dean glad to see that he seemed more than lucid, his eyes brighter and more focused. "I've got a name of the driver and he's one bad sonuvabitch. It might be wise to let me put an out an APB on him. We may find your brother faster…"

_Though whether we find him alive is altogether another thing. _

Marjorie gasped at his side, sensing his thoughts and Dean studying the sheriff's face felt his throat constrict in fear when he saw the guarded expression on his face. "How bad a bastard is this creep? Just what will he do with my brother?"

_The bastard had his Sammy and he'd happily kill him slowly if he had dared hurt his little brother. Slow being the operative word. _

Blowing out a shaky breath Ray answered. "The man is muscle for hire and he likes hurting people." Seeing the alarm on Dean's pale face he quickly added. "Still little kids have never been his MO before so someone must have paid him to snatch your brother. Money is always a prime motivator with a goon like Strickland."

"Then we've gotta find him fast and we keep the cops out of it. I don't trust your gun-ho colleagues to keep their cool and not shoot anything and everything that moves when it comes to the crunch." answered Dean. Getting Sammy back alive minus any bullet holes was the preferable option.

As the sheriff nodded his understanding Dean warned, "Besides we may have to do things my way when I find the bastard, and believe me what I will do to him won't be fucking pretty."

He was going to get his brother back. He had to. No matter what the law might think. No matter what the body count might be at the end of the day. Sammy deserved nothing less.

"Okay, responded Ray. "Though I am going to put out a few feelers over at Burkesville. Strickland is a man who likes his drink and a goodtime. We may get lucky."

Marjorie squeezed her nephew's arm in appreciation. "Thank you Raymond."

"No problem auntie. Just make sure my wife remains in the dark about all of this as what Dean will do to Strickland will be nothing compared to what she will do to me. I promised her last time to steer clear of anything hinkey, remember?"

Marjorie smiled soothingly masking her feelings. "It will be our little secret Ray. Jemma will be none the wiser, believe me." .Her fondest for her nephew was the polar opposite to what she felt for his wife. She was a hag of woman, and she cringed internally thinking of the offspring she might bring forth one day that she might have to label as family.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Wes struggled to keep his excitement hidden as they drove up the long driveway. Pulling outside of her house always gave him such a thrill, a sense that something special was waiting for him inside. It was a sanctuary, a place of oneness that only she could offer up.

Buzz had jumped easily from the car whistling tunelessly, eager to get the child out of the trunk and get his reward before making a quick exit from the creepy old dame's place.

He couldn't see the attraction she held for Wes but he guessed it was a psychic touchy feely thing and felt more than a measure of contempt for Wes and his little group of cronies that seemed to cling around the woman. Once he had grabbed his money he was hot-tailing out of here, back to more interesting pursuits over at Bernie's.

On opening the trunk he could see the little boy stirring. Then he noticed that somewhere along the ride the kid had suffered a nose bleed and the blood had smudged to a drying stain across his face where he had lain. "Better not have made a mess in my car you little runt," he muttered under his breath.

The child looked numb, still a little stunned he guessed as he reached down and shook him none to gently awake. A lot of money was riding on this kid and now he wanted his payment, damaged goods or not.

Panicked eyes snapped open to look up at him and he heard the child call out disorientated, "No, let me go, I want Dean."

"If you mean that bastard that tried to shoot a hole in my head you ain't going to see him ever again kid. I had him fixed good and proper."

"No." whispered Sam in return eyes large with fear, shaking his head in denial before he felt himself being dragged out of the small dark confines of the trunk into the cold night air and his whole body shivered at its touch.

Blinking sluggishly adjusting to the bright lights around him, Sam twisted his head around to see where he was but all he could take in was the tall giant of a man who stood over him growling a warning at him to behave or else. Mutely Sam nodded back and fought down the need for fresh tears. He hooked his chin to his chest afraid that if he looked at the bald headed man again it would be an invitation to hurt him even more.

Fingering absently a small lump at the back of his head he felt strange, a little bit fuzzy and things seemed out of focus. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep and pretend that none of this was happening but reality pulled him fully awake as he was dragged towards a large fronted house, struggling all the while to keep up with the longer stride of his captor.

He couldn't understand why these men had taken him or why they had hurt his brother. Stubbornly he refused to believe what the man had said about Dean. It was all a lie because Dean was big now, just like daddy, and that meant that no one or anything could stop him. Not ever.

Still he was puzzled. He must have done something wrong or why was he here now. Daddy had said time and time again that mistakes cost dearly and remembering how the blood had poured down Dean's face he knew that somehow it had all gone wrong.

Maybe he hadn't listened properly and bewildered by what had happened he ran Dean's instructions through his head again. Hadn't he run away when told him to no matter how scared he had been? And then again when then woman rang he again did what she told him. He had hidden and waited as quietly as he could for Marjorie to come but still the bad men had found him. It didn't make sense. Nothing did today.

Shaking his head he sighed, too tired to think it all through and just hoped daddy or Dean would find him soon and make things right again.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Buzz gripped Sam's arm in a vice like grip, dragging him after him to the large imposing doorway. Light flooded the area as the heavy oak door swung open and a tall slim figure emerged. Elegantly dressed in a simple black dress and matching patent pumps, with her grey hair swept up high in a small pleat, the mistress of the house looked keenly at the package being delivered.

Wes stepped forward and indicated with a small wave of his hand his present. "Just like I promised."

The woman laughed lightly. Her little bloodhound had done her proud as she eyed the boy before her and rewarded Wes with a bright congratulatory smile, looping her arm excitedly through his as her dark eyes remained locked on the small child. "You did not exaggerate my dear boy. This is a special gift indeed."

Frozen in the doorway Sam wondered what the strange woman meant but continued to keep his head down before he felt cool fingers lift his chin up and he was forced to look up at her.

Surprisingly she appeared normal to his young eyes. Older than his dad most certainly and now he felt more than a little confused. Why had they taken him to her when she looked so ordinary? She was not the evil figure he had been imagining on the journey stuffed in the dark trunk. Still he couldn't help but form an instant dislike for the woman, an instinct was tearing at him as his mind screamed danger as she stared down at him.

"What's your name little boy?" she asked, her voice deep and expectant but he shook his head, refusing to speak.

Again she lifted up his chin and dabbed this time at the blood drying on his face with a crisp linen handkerchief tutting in sympathy before adding. "My name's Miss Jones," adding with a knowing wink up at Wes. "Eleanor to my friends."

Wes smiled at the attention and knew that she was more than just pleased with the child. For once his talents had been used to good effect and not for the first time since she had come into his life he felt flush with excitement. He couldn't help marvel at the gentle tone she was taking with the boy and offered up a name. "I think I heard his dad calling him Sammy."

Seeing the child flinch at hearing his name she cooed softly at the boy. "Well Sammy its best that we get you out of the cold and then let me see what I can do make everything better again."

Chewing his bottom lip in confusion he knew that daddy had said that all strangers were dangerous and that he wasn't to trust them. Struggling to keep his panic at bay he shook his head finding his voice. "You best let me go lady cos' my daddy is going to be really mad with you." He sucked in a breath adding, "And he hurts bad things like you."

Miss Jones gave back a cold laugh, her back suddenly stiff with indignation. "Bad things? Me? Wes what nonsense have you been filling this poor child's head with?"

Playing along with the game Wes shook Sam's soft mop of hair in mock affection only to feel him squirm in indignation under his touch. "I think Buzz and I might have scared him a little too much for his own good Miss Ellie. Sorry there kid. We're not the bad guys, honest!"

"I don't believe you," Sam managed to snap out visibly fuming that he was unable to get away from the thin man's reach and added. "Only bad people take kids, bad people like you, and my daddy and brother kick the butts of scary bad things all the time. You just wait and see…"

The thin man snickered at his threat and Sam saw red. As quick as lightening he landed a furious kick to the man's shin and a brief flash of dimples followed as he watched in open satisfaction as the man hopped in pain for a few seconds. "It's gonna hurt a zillion times more than when my dad kicks your stupid ass."

"Now, now, please watch your language," said the woman in rapprochement. "What a naughty potty mouth we have going on here I don't like any dirty talk in my house."

"Then you'd better let me go because cos I can say a lot more!" answered Sam, swirling back to her, his small face open in defiance. He knew more than a handful of cuss words, that's for sure, as having Dean around had certainly broadened his young vocabulary extending to whole wide range of fruiter expressions.

It also proved that his last name wasn't Winchester for nothing as he was done with playing scared, a hot bubble of temper seeping out of him now and he added "You're so going to be in a lot of trouble when Dean gets here."

"Dean?" queried the woman looking over at Buzz and Wes with a raised eyebrow.

"The guy in the car I think. He ain't gonna be any trouble Miss Jones, believe me." countered Buzz with a sneer.

Sam shot a daggered defiant look up at Buzz. "Yeah well my brother is big just like my daddy and he when gets hold of you he's gonna kill you."

He was rewarded with a smack around the back of his head and Buzz hissed, "Shut your stupid mouth you little brat."

On receiving the backhander Sam felt his knees buckle, the ringing in his ears making him feel dizzy all over again. As Buzz tried to bring him back under control the grip on his forearm burnt more than before and he couldn't help but yelp out in pain.

"Stop that," demanded Miss Jones as she watched Sam squirm in the man's too hard grip.

With a snarl Buzz pushed him away with enough force so that he skidded across the drive way to land on his knees with a jarring thump. On impact his body rebelled as the cuts from the razor wire stung anew, his head thumped even harder and the emotional toil of the day just overwhelmed him. The pain and anger couldn't be stopped this time and Sam screamed out at Buzz with large tears spilling freely down his pale cheeks. "I hope my daddy and brother smash your stupid face in."

Buzz would have there and then happily kicked the life out of Sam but a hand clamping down on his shoulder, cold on his skin, freezing his actions, kept him safe. "Do not touch him further Mr Strickland or I will not be happy."

Buzz nodded sucking back the rage, smart enough to take heed of her warning. "Okay. Okay. Just get my money ready and I'll happily leave this little bag of nothing alone."

Despite his tears Sam tracked every movement Buzz made, now more angry than just scared. He knew that if he had Dean with him he would have kept him protected from the big bully and he silently prayed for him to come and get him soon. Then he reasoned that the big ugly jerk wouldn't know what had hit him. His big brother would sort him out.

The strange woman was reaching out for him once again and hastily he brushed away his tears with the brisk rub of his sleeve over his eyes and tried to pull away from her cold touch. Every time he looked at her his tummy did flip-flops with unease and all he could be certain of was that he didn't like this woman. She just felt wrong. Worse even than Buzz.

Daring a quick glance over her shoulder he grimaced as his vision was still blocked by the two bad men and he knew there was no chance of escape. Next thing he knew Miss Jones cold hand was pulling him up off the ground, firmer this time, less gentle and with more than a hint of annoyance on her face. Suddenly he felt very scared, his earlier bravado melting under her fierce gaze.

"Time for you to come into my world little boy" she whispered, wrapping her fingers tightly over his small wrist so that he couldn't pull away.

Sam's lips trembled under her touch, his eyes bright with unshed tears as the woman turned to walk back into the house and all he could do was follow reluctantly after her.

The slam of the heavy oak door behind him made him jump visibly but the woman did not let up on her grip. Her heals click-clacked down the long marbled flooring of the brightly lit corridor till he was led into a heavily curtained room were the lights were dimmer, less blinding.

He stood mutely as he tried to search out an escape route before he was made to sit in a large armchair that swallowed his small frame, leaving his legs to dangle a good foot from the floor.

As he sat in the large chair his eyes wandered around the large well furnished room and could only find one exit, the door they had just come in through. His eyes dropped down resignedly to his lap before his small face puckered in concern as he saw for the first time that his new jeans had rips in them. Tentatively he fingered at one of the open slashes and felt the sting of a cut on his thigh with a hiss.

It wasn't the sting of the cut that brought fresh tears alone to his eyes. The new clothes that his big brother had gotten him had made him feel so special and a pang of sorrow washed over him. There was just no way his big brother was going to be able to sew up the mess he had made of his jacket and jeans. All the money he had spent on him was wasted. Daddy was going to strips off him when he found out.

Anxiously his fingers reached out to his chest, tracing out the Spiderman pattern on his t-shirt and he gave out a small sigh of relief that at least it appeared to have survived his encounter with the razor wire better than his other clothes. It was his favourite t-shirt ever and at least now he could show Dean that he had managed to keep one thing safe.

He was distracted from his thoughts when he heard the grown ups talking and his head jerked up at hearing his name being used again.

"Well Mr Strickland I can't say I approve of the way you brought little Sammy to me. I would have liked him a little less traumatised."

"You got the kid alive!" countered Buzz and she nodded her understanding pursing her lips into a tight slash.

Sam watched as she reached into a box and pulled out a large brown envelope. Her delicately boned face was bathed in orange light from the large open fire that dominated the west wall of the room and she reminded Sam of a Halloween lantern, the dark shadows of cheek and sunken eye orbits giving her an eerie feel.

The open fire had managed to bathe him with enough warmth to put away the chill of the night. But it didn't stop the sliver of fear that run up his spine as he watched the two adults interact. They were both bad people and he knew that he would have to try and find a way to escape. Staring up the adults he couldn't help but flinch when Buzz gave him a knowing wink after pocketing the enveloped. "Thanks Miss Jones. You sure have fun with the brat."

"Oh I imagine I will Mr Strickland," murmured Miss Jones confidently looking purposely at Sam as she spoke.

The energy spilling from the child was feeding her already, a life force pulsating from him so intense it made her bones vibrate in anticipation. For the longest of ages she had suffered such hunger, but tonight she might have it sated if but for short while.

She couldn't help but wonder what had made this little child so powerful and why she hadn't been able to sense him before tonight. Still never one to look a gift horse in the mouth she was content to let the night play out as planned.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Ray shadowed the impala as it sped back to Burkesville not at all happy that Dean had insisted on driving but the man could not be argued down. At least he appeared to be in control as he did a ton down the open road. Tossing a quick look at his aunt he could see the worry lines eating at her face. She was quite, too quiet, thinking ahead no doubt on what they faced. A small child life was dependent on her, her ability to connect and he suddenly wished that he had tried to nurture his gift a little more to take some of the burden off her.

For his part Dean thought it more than a little strange to see a cop car speeding behind him without the lights flashing as he pushed the car speedometer over the hundred miles an hour mark. Resisting the headache thumping behind his eye sockets he kept his eyes on the road, desperate to catch a lead on Sammy before it was too late.

Burkesville was only minutes away and that meant getting his hands on Strickland would soon follow. After a call back from one of Ray's contacts they now had an address to aim for as Strickland's car had been spotted over at some dive called Bernie's.

Chewing his bottom lip Dean wondered how long it would take to get the information from the bastard as to what had happened to his brother. Frowning he thought darkly that the sheriff had better not get in the way because one way or another he would get Strickland to tell him where Sammy was.

Punching the steering wheel in anger he knew that so far today had been one total screw up. The changes done to his brother and the harm that had come with that was all his responsibility and it was up to him to make it right for Sam. First things first, he reminded himself bitterly, he had to get Sam back and then he could sort out the damn girl from the bar that had caused this day to be so fucked up after that.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

She sank onto the sofa pinching the bridge of her nose, battling down a whimper of pain that beat an unhappy tune in her head. She could feel the child once more, thankful for that reconnection despite the fear radiating out to her from him, but Sam was more than just scared. He was terrified.

Missouri reached with a shaky hand for her phone. Things were moving too fast and the danger the boy found himself now was something she had not thought possible.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

In the dark lit bar Dean moved silently behind the broad man and pressed the steel edged blade of his knife at the fold between Buzz's neck and chest hard enough to draw a thin line of red.

He was rewarded with a startled grunt from Buzz and he bent down to whisper into his ear. "Listen hard or I'll slit you from ear to ear. You are going to get up slowly and then we are going to have ourselves a little chat outside," and pressing the knife harder he added. "Understand?"

Nodding his compliance Buzz slowly sat down his beer only to feel the knife pressure increase in warning. He swallowed down his natural instinct to fight back as out of the corner of his eye noticed a cop, gun cocked standing to his left side. Realising that he had no choice but to follow he hissed out. "Sure dude, chill, whatever you want."

On standing they matched height for height and Dean kept the blade in a tight draw across Buzz's throat as he herded him out towards the exit. The patrons in the bar kept their silence, seemingly more afraid of the look on Dean's face than their regular psychopath's reputation.

Ray for his part hadn't realised he had been holding his breath as he followed after Dean until he heard the metal clink of the lock shutting behind them as they walked outside.

Buzz smiled lazily as they left the confines of the bar, confident that he could handle the situation. The cops had tried to get the better of him before but he had always managed to wriggle out of things, coming out smelling like a freaking rose. No one messed with Buzz Strickland and got away with it, and he had bragged openly about the consequences enough times at least to make sure that people knew what he would do if they tried.

Then it hit him hard, recognition that this was no cop threatening to slice him open as the black impala glossy coat shone in the moonlight. This had to be 'Dean' pressing with ease a knife to his throat. He snorted in disbelief cursing himself that he hadn't taken the time out to put that bullet in his head like he had promised. Now he had that freaky little boy's brother readying to slice him up.

Remembering the threats from the little boys mouth he suddenly knew that this time round squirming out of things might not be so easy.

For the first time in his life Buzz felt an unfamiliar sensation snake its way through his gut. Honest to goodness fear hit him as he was spun around to meet face to face the man holding the knife. A man whose eyes locked with his own and promised pain and an electric thrill raced down his spine. Pain could be such a good thing at times.

"Where the fuck is my little brother?" snarled Dean as Buzz threw him a cocky grin at him. Liking waving a red flag to a bull Dean snapped.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Marjorie had tried to read Buzz but all she got was madness. Even from the safety of the car he terrified her, his mind so utterly depraved that she had felt like vomiting after only the briefest connection.

Ashamed that she could not help further she had silently let Dean do what he had to do, but each time she heard the sickening thud of flesh being battered or heard the retching screams come from the man she wanted to scream in return.

The violence was too real, too intense and she wanted to curl up in to herself and pretend that she was somewhere else. If it hadn't been for the memory of Sammy throwing her a simple dimpled smile of trust at her earlier that day she knew she would be already running all the way back to Somerton, high healed wedges or not. That little boy needed her and promises made to Missouri also had to be met.

Ray had stood back, resting against the hood of his car, looking into the distance as Buzz continued to resist. The law enforcement officer in him was switched to off mode because he knew that if the child wasn't found soon then they might never find him alive. Scum like Strickland wouldn't have talked in a police cell and if it meant Dean stripping the flesh off his bones to get an answer he wasn't going to stop him. As the man screamed out once more he just prayed Dean got his answer soon.

Dean's fingers itched to put his gun in the goon's mouth and pull the trigger, but that had to wait because the bastard on his knees had had taken his brother and whatever it took he was going to find out what he had done with him.

Grabbing at a fleshy ear Dean viciously pulled him back up onto his feet and slammed him against the concrete wall so that his bald head smacked hard enough to draw blood and the air was snatched from his battered lungs. "So you little bitch, you ready for more fun, cos' I gotta tell you I've only just started here."

"I like playing games Deanie boy," chuckled Buzz brazenly through red stained teeth, breathing through the pain adding. "Beat me as much as you like but that little brat is already as good as dead."

Dean responded to the taunt by plunging his knife into the man's bicep so that it hit bone and skidded upwards to shred through flesh and muscle in an agonising drag. "You'd better tell me where he is or god help me I am going to strip you of body parts one by one."

Buzz, as the knife was yanked back out of his arm, couldn't stop the howl of pain as blood spurted in a hot gush down his arm and once again he fell back down to his knees. "Fuck you," he screamed out, panting heavily as his body rebelled at the pain. "I ain't gonna tell you a fucking thing."

Buzz looked up at Dean through his one good eye, the other already closed shut. He struggled to draw in his breath as his nose was more than just broken bubbling a stream of snotty blood down his chin and neck married with the fact that he could feel the give of ribs in his chest, worrying into flesh, air was hard to drag in.

He had never taken such a beating before, not even from his drunken dad as a kid. As a man he was the one giving out a bashing rather than receiving them and as he looked up at Dean he wondered what else he had lined up for him. Suddenly the money he had gotten from Miss Jones didn't seem enough.

Dean knelt down to where Buzz sat sagged against the wall and slowly ran his bloodied knife in warning down his face and knew he was closing to cracking the psychopath resolve when he saw him flinch at the touch. Resting the tip of the blade against the left ear lobe for a second he started tap dancing the blade one by one against the metal studs that run up the outer ridge of the ear. With a cold smile he looked the man square in the eye and whispered. "One part at a time, Buzz. Now where should I start?"

Buzz gulped in a deep breath as he could only guess what he was going to do next. Then he screamed long and hard as the knife sliced through him once again. The pain made his stomach roil and vomit followed to spray the ground around him mingling with the puddle of blood in which he sat in.

Disdainfully Dean wrinkled his nose and watched with grim satisfaction as the beaten man pressed the palm of his hand against his scalp as if he could numb away the pain by pressing hard against the open wound. Moving the knife back to the other ear he demanded darkly. "Now I will ask you one more time, where the hell is my brother?"

"You fucking bastard," Buzz hurled out brokenly through his sobs of pain. At seeing the fire in Dean's eyes as he leant in closer with the knife to prick against his flesh he quickly added. "Miss Jones. I took him over to Miss Jones."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

**Usual disclaimers about owning nothing Supernatural apply! All mistakes, sadly, are all mine! (Yikes! and there have been so many)**

_**Written especially for Starliteyes17 over at LimpSam - STCOL(AR)S. **_

****

**The hands of time**

**Chapter 6. Open defiance**

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"_Now I will ask you one more time, where the hell is my brother?"_

"_You fucking bastard," Buzz hurled out brokenly through his sobs of pain. At seeing the fire in Dean's eyes as he leant in closer with the knife to prick against his flesh he quickly added. "Miss Jones. I took him over to Miss Jones."_

"Who the hell is this freaking Miss Jones?" demanded Dean, still pressing the tip of the knife purposely into the fleshy tip of the panicking man's remaining ear. The thought of Sam being left with some strange woman chilled his blood. "What did she want with my brother?"

Still using the palm of his hand as pressure over the mess that had once been his right ear Buzz grunted out his alarm. Swallowing the bile in his throat he was desperate to get out an adequate response before Dean sliced into him again and he managed to stutter out an answer. "Oh Jesus man he was a present. A fucking present for her."

"You've got to be kidding…" snarled Dean his mind doing mental somersaults and not liking any of the conclusions that he was coming to. Hunching over the defeated man he asked coldly. "What sort of present?"

Wisely Buzz answered quickly. "He said the kid was some freaky psychic and that she would want him." He paused unsure if the was being believed or not but at seeing the hard stare in return he quickly added. "He and the other cronies are all into all her hoodoo mumbo jumbo crap. They'd do anything for her."

Forcing down the panic in his voice Dean tried to project an aura of calm as he asked. "And this Wes - he's that rat faced creep I saw in the car with you?"

"Yeah, he gets things for her all the time. They're all into this weird shit that she's got them hooked on. All I do is just take the money and don't hang around afterwards," He let out a long shaky breath before adding in a shaky drawl, "It ain't healthy to stay if you know what I mean."

It was the wrong thing to say as the enraged hunter pressed his forearm against his throat and suddenly he was struggling for breath as Dean spat out. "Not healthy? You thought of that when you left my brother with them, did you? Not fucking healthy?"

"Oh man it was just a job," gasped out Buzz fighting desperately to draw in a breath as the pressure increased. shutting down his airway.

Hissing into his surviving ear Dean warned the struggling man "Pray that my brother is okay, because if he isn't you're gonna wish that your whore of mother had kept her legs crossed and not given birth to your worthless ass before I'm through with you."

Mutely Buzz nodded, his eyes popping with terror as the lack of oxygen burnt his lungs. Suddenly the pressure on his throat lifted and he could gasp in the sweet cold night air again, gulping it down greedily afraid that it would be taken from him again.

Getting quickly back to business Dean asked tersely. "Where do I find this bitch?" He was now more than a little terrified that something very unnatural had his brother and he knew that time was against him.

Spilling his guts with ease now, more than just desperate to get as far away as possible from Dean, Buzz didn't hold back. "She has the old red brick house ten minutes down the road. The kid will be there, but she don't like visitors though…"

"Get up," ordered Dean ignoring the added piece of information. He was coming knocking whether the bitch liked visitors or not.

Dean eyes were bright with barely controlled rage. This piece of scum had snatched his brother and given him over to some mad woman. Anything could be happening to him right now but and as much as he wanted to hurt him further he still needed him until he was sure that he hadn't been fed a line of bull.

Once on his feet Buzz was dragged on visibly shaky legs over to the sheriff's car with Ray waiting with a dark frown on his face, handcuffs jingling in his hand. Up close he could see the damage to the man and his lips curled in disdain at the wash of red covering his head and upper torso.

"The bastard can make a mess of your car," huffed Dean as he handed the battered man over to the sheriff with a hard shove, "I've just cleaned mine."

Ray nodded and Buzz visibly relaxed as he was placed in the car away from Dean and his knife. "Oh man I need a hospital, that maniac sliced my ear off – I'm bleeding like a fucking pig, " he winged up at the Sheriff as he continued to press his hand against the now slower bleeding wound.

Ray merely snapped a handcuff over his free hand and hooked the other cuff to inside the door. "Your not going anywhere till we find that boy, so you best shut your mouth and suck it up because I think his brother isn't done talking with you yet, if you get my drift."

Weakly, in too much pain to argue, Buzz nodded, inwardly praying that the little brat would still be drawing breath by the time they found him.

Marjorie in the meantime had hopped out of the passenger side resolutely refusing to look at the damage done to the man. He was not her primary concern and inwardly she gave a crow of satisfaction that he had gotten what he had deserved at long last He had left a long trail of damage in his life and for once he was paying the penalty as disgusting as that might look.

Her only concern was that Sam was worryingly was still far from being safe, even with that brute out of action.

It was this thought that was mirrored on her face as she grabbed at Dean's arm as he started to walk back over to the impala. "Lad, we have to hurry, Missouri just rang. We have to get Sam now."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Miss Jones felt the thrill of the child's essence filling the room. Turning to Wes with appreciation she patted his arm, eliciting a grin from the human. "I have to say I think this is the best gift ever, he's adorable, such a little gem."

"What about the other one? Will you feed from her too?" asked Wes glowing under her praise. The young blond girl he had snatched earlier that morning had been another gift he was sure would please her. Her strange qualities were an instant draw to his gift that under Miss Jones's tutelage had grown tenfold.

The girl was a puzzle to him though. She had affected an air of naivety, speaking of an innocence that seemed to match the kid's. He wondered if he had hit her a little too hard on the head because since coming to all she did was sit there humming a light tune behind the bolted door of her cell. It was spooky at how calm she was. As if she was waiting for something or someone.

"It may prove too problematic to keep her," answered Miss Jones with a light derisory snort. "Still I think we'll keep her hanging around for a little bit longer as we don't want her or her kin getting in the way later do we?"

Wes frowned unsure of what she meant with regards to the girl's family. All he knew that her needs were the most important thing in his life. In return she kept him fed with parcels of energy that she offered up as rewards for his efforts just making him crave more and more each time What she took from the child tonight promised so much pleasure he could barely contain himself.

"You did make sure that she was made secure as I instructed," she asked abruptly of the man as if seeing through his eyes his actions.

"Yes, the protective charms were placed in each corner and the door is bolted."

"Good. Later she can join us and then she might truly understands the fragility of human life in all it is brief glory. Let her see what the cost of being mortal really is before I let her slip back to her idyllic other world, though not as pure as before I fear."

With a tight smile of satisfaction stretched across her gaunt features she looked over at Sam and saw the scowl marring his young face, distrust emanating off him in waves as he tried to follow the conversation.

For such a small child he showed remarkable bravery, his eyes sparkling with intelligence and determination and she felt a flutter as strange flutter off pity in her stomach. It truly would be a shame to take such a life so young she thought ruefully, but needs must she reminded herself. Needs must.

"I think young Sam really needs to rest for a while. Take him down until later."

Wes nodded and following her instructions went to pull Sam from the chair but he was left grasping at empty air as the boy hopped independently down and squirreled away from his reach.

"You leave me alone," he hollered up at Wes not liking what he had overhead between the two adults at all. "Touch me and I'll kick you again you freak."

"Stop mouthing off you little runt," warned Wes with more than a hiss of annoyance that the child was making him look bad in front of his mentor.

Once more he made a grab for the defiant child and felt his frustration increase tenfold as Sam twisted and wriggled violently under his grip so that he was unable to get control of the fiery six year old.

Sam managed to break free with one mighty twist and quickly raced behind the back of the big chair, open disobedience written on his face as he threw him a quick dimpled grin of triumph.

Wes swore out loud and felt his face colour in return. "Stupid kid – I'm gonna whip your ass when I get hold of you."

"No, you're gonna get it when by brother finds you," answered Sam definitely, circling the chair as Wes chased after him.

At hearing Miss Jones chuckle behind him Wes lost all patience with the child. "You think your freaking clever you little brat? Lets see how smart you'll feel when I get Buzz back to sort you out. I can just imagine what fun he'll have in slapping you around again."

Sam's face paled at the threat and he hastily looked over the woman who had protected him before from that cruel man. She coldly eyed him, sipping from a glass of wine, waiting for Wes to take control back from the child and she inwardly applauded his use of the threat of Buzz to stun the small child into silence.

Sam hated her even more as he saw the callousness on her face, and knew that she was not going to step in to save him again.

Slowly he looked back at Wes trying to keep the tears from flowing again as he chewed his bottom lip in fear. He really didn't want that big mean man back to hurt him again. "No, I'll be good," he whispered and rocked on the balls of his feet afraid to run anymore.

Seeing the small child fold under the threat Wes blew out a silent sigh of relief and quickly took charge of Sam, grabbing in a pinch his jacket sleeve and then frog-marched him out of the room.

Out in the corridor he shook the child hard and whispered harshly. "You play up like that again Sammy boy and I will personally beat you black and blue. You understand?"

Sam didn't bother giving him an answer and instead threw him a dark look. Wes didn't scare him half as much as Buzz and he took the man's threat half-heartedly.

"You won't look so cocky when she's finished with you tonight," warned Wes annoyed at the child's continued open defiance. Being bested by some scrawny six year was proving to be more than a little humiliating and he took out his frustration by yanking the child roughly after him.

Sam ignoring the burn coming from his captor's too tight grip tried to take in everything as he was dragged down the long hallway, wanting an escape so badly now.

The house and the woman scared him, though he wasn't going to show that to Wes. He had heard daddy tell Dean so many times not to show fear, not to the enemy, not to the bad things. He had to be brave, like daddy, like Dean always was, he kept on telling himself.

Still for the little six year old it was hard to keep the worry in check and not for the first time that evening he was more than desperate to see his brother again. He needed to feel safe and only Dean or his daddy could make that real for him. Then the fear would be really gone.

Wes annoyed by the kid's seeming continued confidence muttered dark threats under his breath as he started to drag Sam down a poorly lit stairway at the back of the house. This was really not what he wanted to be doing right, playing nurse maid to some little brat that had showed him in front of her. Now he'd make him suffer for being such a little brat.

As they descended the poorly lit stairway Sam's heart started to beat a little faster as worry edged its way back into his thoughts. The steps led to a dark underground cellar area and his nose wrinkled at the musty smell and his stomach started to do flip-flops. He didn't like the dark.

The large basement was lit by a single low watt light bulb leaving it full of dark corners and shadows and Sam's eyes widened in alarm and he pulled anxiously against Wes's grip whimpering at the change. "I don't like it here." he whispered, eyes locked on the stairway that led him back to the light. "Please. I want to go back."

Wes gave a small cruel laugh at noticing the youngster's wide-eyed stare of panic. "What? Don't like the dark Sammy boy. Afraid of the bogey man are we?"

Sam shook his head, eyes bright again with apprehension as he was dragged to a far corner where a heavy metal door was outlined in the shadows.

Hearing the clang of metal against metal as the key turned in the lock he cried out. "No, I'll be good. I won't be naughty anymore I promise," his small voice broke as he pleaded at seeing the dark room behind the door. "Please…its dark, I don't wanna go in there."

Wes ignored his cries and pushed him forcefully through the open doorway before shutting it hard behind the screaming child.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Miss Jones reached for her wine glass and sighed after the child already missing his presence as a physical a pang of hunger in her stomach.

Frowning she knew that the problem of the girl would soon have to be addressed. At first the temptation to siphon off her essence had been so strong, her desire to taste true pure power again overwhelming, but now that she had the child she was able to think a little clearer.

Taking from the girl might have triggered further intervention she bitterly acknowledged, and to feel their condemnation again might make this banishment an even greater embarrassment to endure.

Taking a longer sip of her wine her face puckered in self felt righteous anger at the injustice of her situation. Even though eons had past since she had been put out it still galled her to think that they might dare censor her now for her actions.

What had they expected her to do? That she would simply fade into nothing or become less than what she was? Placing her in this fickle existence had been their mistake, not hers. She did what she must to survive. No more, no less.

Over the many years she had learnt to accept her fate and even enjoy the benefits that came with it. Mankind was so inherently weak, so gullible and pliable to her will that even as they came and went, spent and used up there came the endless promise of a fresh supply to feed off.

Just like the child.

Though this was one was remarkable, unlike anything else she had tasted before, and it troubled her not to truly understand the reasons behind it. Perhaps it was time to have a little chat with her house-guests on her own.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Missouri felt the flush of fear creep up and tighten in her throat and for a moment she felt utterly helpless to protect the child.

Whatever what has happening to Sam was terrifying him deeply and she cursed the distance between her the Winchester boys. Now all she could do was pray that Marjorie would be of help when they faced the creature that held the boy.

Even from the distance between them she could sense how wrong and old it felt. Leaving a bitter taste in her mouth at the brief psychic connection. Sour and rotten in her mouth, at tasting something deeply unnatural trapped in human form.

This creature rattled against its cage of flesh and bone and yet it still within that body a dark power resided that Missouri truly was afraid off. Already the dread of what was to come was chilling her to the bones, especially as she had sent Marjorie head first into this mess.

The only blessing she could see about the whole situation was Dean. The older Winchester's devotion to his brother made him a formidable force, whether it be against human or supernatural.

It was that strength of purpose that fed her some hope and damped down to a dull roar the screams of panic coming from the younger Winchester down the psychic pipeline.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The large red-bricked house stood out imposingly in the winter landscape, clearly visible through the bare tree line. Dean though hung back under cover having already spotted 3 CTTV cameras dotted around the front and around the grounds of the house.

Whoever this Jones woman was she wasn't taking any chances of having any uninvited guests it seemed.

Dean needed a diversion to get him into the house and he had the perfect solution at hand. The law and Sheriff Brown had his uses it seemed after all. He watched as the police car drew up to the front of the house, blue lights flashing its arrival.

Confidently Ray had strolled up to the main door to knock hard and loud. It was a knock not meant to be ignored and within seconds the door was swung open, flooding the dark surroundings with artificial light from within.

A small man stood in the brightly lit doorway, thin and wiry, his pinched-faced features bringing a curse from Dean at recognising the man. "Wes!"

Coldly he eyed the man for a moment fighting down his natural instincts to put a bullet through the man's skull. Right now though he could not afford such feelings of revenge. His only concern right now was to find his brother safe and sound. The little rat faced bastard could be dealt with permanently later he consoled himself once he had gotten Sammy back.

With practiced ease he sidled away from the cover of the trees to swing round to the outskirts of the house. Under the thankfully moonless sky he snuck around to a shadowed side entrance without detection, praying that all eyes were on the front of the house now. Having a cop bang on the door like that normally elicited such a response.

Still he had Missouri's warning ringing clearly in his ears about powerful dark magic holding his brother from him and he knew that he had to keep his hunters head together. His focus was now on only getting back his brother and destroying all the evil sons of bitches that had dared touch him along the way if possible. Nothing else bared thinking on,

Ray for his part knew how to play the game, apologetic good-cop face on as he pointed to his passenger huddling in the back of the car as he asked. "Do you recognise this man, sir? He is a little incoherent but keeps on muttering about a Miss Jones and this particular house. I would normally have taken him straight to the hospital but he insisted that I come here first."

"God," muttered Wes weakly, rooted to the spot at recognising the bloodied form "That's Buzz. What the hell happened to him?"

"I don't quite clearly know yet sir. Perhaps a mugging or an animal attack? Might account for him losing his ear and all," answered Ray, inwardly grinning at the green complexion Wes was now sporting.

"Wild animals. Here? stuttered Wes in open disbelief. The whole notion of something taking down Buzz like this scared him to the core. Nothing or nobody should have been able to do the sort of damage to a man like him.

Languidly Ray drawled out a response. "Well sir there's been reports of a gang of feral dogs around here for a while. I don't suppose you've seen any?

"No Sheriff, I haven't." answered Wes managing to get his reactions under firmer control. Trying to hold it together he drew himself up a little straighter. The last thing he needed was for a cop to try and get into the house right now. Miss Jones would not be pleased to say the least and he added. "I really do think you need to get him to the hospital. He seriously looks like crap…."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Pounding on the metal door had not brought any relief from the overwhelming darkness. For Sam any thoughts of remaining brave had vanished the moment he had been shoved him into the room and the door had slammed shut behind him. Despite his pleading Wes hadn't returned and he was left alone in the dark and all the horror that came with it.

All the terrors that an over imaginative 6 year old mind could think of, and knew to be real, tore at him.

There were too many monsters that came out in the dark. Too many stories that had been told by his daddy and brother of horrible monsters swirling around in his head not to leave him utterly terrified, to leave him sobbing and pounding his little fists in desperation against the metal door.

Exhaustion after a while replaced the panic and the loud sobbing turned to weary sniffles and at some point he had sunk down to sit on the cold cement floor by the door, his fingers touching the metal door as a form of reassurance, it being the his only exit from the dark.

"Dean," he whispered out in the darkness, the act of saying his brother's name out loud oddly comforting. "Please Dean, I don't want to be here anymore."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

The girl stopped humming, her fine features instantly marred in a deep frown as a something nestled inside her and a new startling sensation gripped her. Fear. It was coming from the other wall in palpable waves and she couldn't help but flinch at its strange ferocity.

Letting out a painful breath she knew now that something terrible hovered around her. This strange house of stone held a dark power that threatened too much, and she knew now why her mother had forbidden her to come though the veil.

Pure evil lurked in this place.

She had been blind to it at first but now it had grown in such intensity it made her feel physically sick. To taste such evil was an anathema to her, threatening to taint her very soul. Now all she wanted to do was return home.

The time of pleasure had drawn to its end, no matter how unnaturally, and now she was more than happy to take that scolding from her mother and return to her safety. Her embrace.

When the door swung open and she saw the woman in front of her she suddenly felt another new sensation. Panic.

Miss Jones eyed the girl and nodded. "Hello Sweetie, haven't seen you in an age or two. How's mommy dearest?"

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean wove silently through the house hunting through each room he came across for his brother but frustratingly was coming up empty. The house was too large for him to search it alone, with too many secret places that his brother could be stashed into, and he knew that he had to change tact fast.

Wes was still at the front door and he it took that opportunity to reach the pre-occupied man. Slipping the knife that he had used so effectively against Buzz to the man's scrawny neck he heard him squeak out loud with fright at the touch.

"Listen up you little bastard. You've seen what I've done to your buddy Buzz, do you want me to do the same to you?"

Frantically Wes shook his head, feeling the sting of the blade nick his skin and he flinched. "No, man, no."

Ray had pushed past him, his gun raised, searching out the long corridor for movement as Dean pushed his point home. "My brother, where is he?"

"He's not here," lied Wes, still more afraid of Miss Jones than the man with a knife at his neck.

Dean didn't get a chance to press home his displeasure at the man's responses as a hand struck Wes hard across the cheek and a husky voice called him openly a liar. Marjorie Brown was more than a little upset it seemed as she read the other psychic's mind.

"He's took him down to the basement." She frowned, resisting the man's attempt to mentally pull away as she dug deeper. Next anger boiled in her veins and she jerked up her knee sharply to his groin. "You pig, leaving him shut up like that…"

Wes crumpled forwards, groaning in agony, but was unable to get any relief as Dean's hands stopped him from falling to his knees to nurse his injury. "I'm going to get my brother back you asshole and then I'm coming back for you."

Ray took that as a hint to step in and he snatched up the still squirming smaller man. "Looks like you and Buzz can play catch up for a while before big brother here plays slice and dice with you later."

"Yeah that's right you horrid little creature. I hope Dean teaches you a lesson that you are never going to forget," sniped Marjorie after the shaking man as he was forced cuffed into the back of the police car.

Dean looked over at the still fired up Marjorie and grinned at her with new respect. "The basement huh? Know a way down to it Little-Miss-Balls-Breaker?

"I think it's to the back. And we have to hurry because that's where _she_ is right now!" answered Marjorie with a frown. The ability to see or sense things was never clear cut but she had to trust them now. Sam's life depended on it.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

She looked at _ber_ standing in the doorway and wanted to cry. So this what had become of her after such an age? What a sad waste to see her now as she was, so belittled, so desperate. How bitter would be her mother's tears on the telling.

Worse though was seeing the child she held firmly at her side, her bony hand clasping his despite his obvious reluctance.

Small and beautifully delicate with a spill of dark wavy hair, his pale face was marred with the path of drying tears. There was an impossible attraction for the child for her to ignore, carrying with him a connection to her that she was yet uncertain of but nonetheless she felt.

Now as she watched his small frame shiver by _her_ side she was desperately afraid for him. The terror from earlier that she had experienced was making itself felt once more and she now understood that it came from this small compelling boy. His fear was real, too real and she felt somehow responsible for it and she ransacked her memories for the reason why.

Not stepping beyond the charms that kept her prisoner at bay and powerless Miss Jones mockingly asked in the doorway, "You look puzzled little one. I know that you remember me, as I remember you. Still all you have is eyes for this child. Do you know more in his making than I do?"

The red dressed girl shook her head and smiled a warning "You have fallen far it seems, riddled with rot and disease once fair one. Do you think it wise now to do this?"

"I take what I must little girl to survive. As you would do after a millennium of living with such goats. Still I will give you the chance to watch the taking and know the vulnerability of those that you seem to so openly admired," sneered Miss Jones.

"Ah no you would be best to let me go, let him go to, or I promise they will come and throw you down to the lower levels or worse!"

She flinched as she watched the older woman laugh confidently and finally knew what had to be done. This little boy's fate felt bound to her own and pursing her lips in annoyance she stepped to the doorway to look at her face to face. "You will fail here. Already things turn against you. He is well loved and under great protection that seek you out even as we speak."

Sam looked at her determination and felt a glimmer of hope return as the girl before him did not seem at all afraid of the witch.

Looking back up at Miss Jones he grinned knowingly, his eyes sparkly bright with renewed expectation that his brother was coming for him, having now no doubt that what was going to happen soon.

Finding his confidence returning now that he was out of that dark cell he couldn't keep quiet and crowed out loud. "My brother's coming and then he's gonna kick your ugly butt…."

"You wish," snorted Miss Jones, eyeing the small child with a shiver of apprehension. "Your brother has already been dealt with."

"Uh uh, I know he's coming," answered Sam confidently. "And he's going to be really mad at you...!"

**TB****C**

_**Okay folks I know I promised to end it with this chapter but WeeSammy & BigDean just kept getting in the way! Already chapter 7 has started to write itself with an epilogue in tow to tie it all up and then it will be truly finished… Honest! Rozzy. **_

_**P.s. The reviews once again were just amazing – thanks one and all for the lovely support. **_


	7. Chapter 7

**Usual disclaimers about owning nothing Supernatural apply! All mistakes, sadly, are all mine! Thanks again for all the lovely reviews.**

_**Written for Starliteyes17 over at LimpSam - STCOL(AR)S. – Happily Pimping the Limp!**_

**The hands of time**

**Chapter 7: Run, Sammy, Run!**

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

_Finding his confidence returning now that he was out of that dark cell he couldn't keep quiet and crowed out loud. "My brother's coming and then he's gonna kick your ugly butt…."_

_"You wish," snorted Miss Jones, eyeing the small child with a shiver of apprehension. "Your brother has already been dealt with."_

_"Uh uh, I know he's coming," answered Sam confidently. "And he's going to be really mad at you...!"_

Miss Jones eyed the small boy at her side carefully, wondering if he knew what he was sensing was real or not. With a child so gifted his words could not be so easily ignored and she turned her head up to the ceiling with a frown.

The girl watched carefully as Miss Jones murmured something under her breath, a flicker of concern crossing her features at sensing something above. Tauntingly she called out, "If the child is right it would be best to let him go, or I do believe you may meet a very unsatisfactory end."

Turning her attention back to her prisoner Miss Jones shook her head in amusement. "You think that a man can kill me? How? What does he possess that other men do not? Why should I fear such a weak creature that lets his brother be taken from him so easily?"

Sam bridled at her side and his words came out angry and hot. "My brother's not weak you old witch. He's coming for you cos' it's what my daddy taught him to do. To hunt all the horrible bad things like you."

Coldly Miss Jones looked back at Sam and realised the child revelation about his family was true and her top lip sneered in disdain. "Hunters? Is that what you bring to my doorstep little boy?

"Yes," hissed Sam proudly, a large grin plastering his small face at finally being understood. "I told you to let me go. Now they're coming for me."

At his bravado the young girl laughed. "How strange a twist is it that you should come to their attention now. Taking me was your first mistake because already I hear the call and they will look for me soon if I do not return. As for this child he is an innocent and does not deserve your unnatural attention."

Haughtily Miss Jones shook her head. "Such concern serves you ill when I know what your actions have done. I know exactly what drives his brother, why he needs to come and save this child in the first place. And I would ask myself what he will do to you after what you have done."

She laughed at the confusion on the younger girl's face. "You do not know what you have done? Oh what irony when you fear for my life when it is your own thin neck you should be worried about before his brother wraps his fingers round your throat and squeezes the very life out of you."

Sam looked between the two arguing women struggling to understand their strange conversation. Looking at the girl in the red dress he suddenly made the connection that had been driving his brother to anger all day.

Scowling fiercely he waggled a small finger at her in admonishment "You! Dean's really angry with you. He said that you did something to me and now he gonna fix you good and proper."

She looked at the small child and frowned at his accusation along with the mention of his brother's name. A memory resurfaced and the pleasure that went with it so that a soft smile touched her lips. It had been a good time last night with both of them happy to reciprocate each others needs unselfishly. Puzzled she recalled the connection and realised that her little gift to her lover that night had created enough feedback to do this to the child in front of her.

"Oh by the heavens," she whispered starring wide eyed at the angry youngster, her mother's warnings about using enchantment in this realm ringing a warning in her ears "This is most unexpected…"

Miss Jones laughed viciously at her reaction, taking delight in her confession. "You whore around with these linear beings and do not expect any consequence? You use magic to do as you please, and yet you dare censure me for when I use it as I please."

Shaking her head in denial the girl answered. "No, I do not destroy as you do. I do not harm."

"I think this child may well want to disagree with you." smiled Miss Jones coldly in return, before adding. "Though I suppose I have to thank you for this most welcome gift. He really is such a little treasure – can you not feel it?"

The girl looked horrified at her and then quickly back at the child, her face paling at the thought. "You have become something truly wicked sister if you harm him. I erred but this child should not pay for my mistake."

"And yet you did not think of this when you altered him?" snapped back Miss Jones. "Foolish girl, dipping between worlds without the wisdom of age or the benefits that go with it."

The red dressed girl eyes glittered with unshed tears as she pleaded guilty. "Please I would still ask that you let me make right that which I made wrong. It is not the child's fate to be a meal on your table of bitterness sister."

"What do you know of bitterness? Our kin left me stripped and naked in this world for daring to love."

"You loved a demon! Against all the natural laws you laid down with one of the dark spirits and you did not expect punishment?"

"Punishment? Did I really deserve this? Look what you have made of me, what I was forced to become," she answered hollowly.

Glancing down at the boy in her grasp she gave a small sigh that rippled through her. "I could have perhaps made him my own with time, taste but not devour, but he will not now rest easy at my touch."

The tears fell freely now from the younger girl as she pushed against the invisible barrier that kept her from the child, appalled at what her mistake was now costing. "No, I would gladly give to you that which you crave. Do not do this to the boy."

A flicker of sadness flitted across the older woman's face and for a moment the girl hoped she might agree to her offer until it was met with a negative shake of the head. "I do what needs to be done. You can bear witness to what they have forced me to become. Go back and tell them of the suffering they have caused."

Sam frowned struggling desperately to understand the strange conversation going on around him. He felt uncomfortable, aware now that the very air itself felt oddly charged, as if something strange was about to happen. Throwing a worried glance at the blond girl he was startled to see the panic on her face and instinctively he started to struggle away from Miss Jones. He really did not like this woman or her cold fingers.

Miss Jones merely tightened her grip on his wrist as he wriggled to be free of her and a gasp was forced from his lips when suddenly he felt the warmth being dragged out of him, leached through her bony fingers clamped on his wrist. For a slightly built woman she had remarkable strength in her grip and Sam couldn't break free.

As the pain grew more intense his fear grew exponentially, his heart pounding madly in his chest. Sam yelped in pain as the sensation of ice fled through his veins and the crushing band of panic that wrapped around his chest worsened and tears came unchecked to roll down his face. "No, let me go. It hurts."

Miss Jones did not hear his pleas or the cries from the girl, her thoughts centred elsewhere as a look of bliss calmed her sharp features. Pulling the life force from the small child was an intense experience. His essence tasted so sweet, wonderfully nourishing. He was like nothing else that she had savoured before.

Desperately Sam pulled against her agonizing touch, managing to yank his hand upwards and instinctively he used the only weapon at hand, his teeth. They sank into the frigid flesh of her arm, nipping down hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. He got the response he wanted and was hurled angrily away to land with a bone-jarring thud to the ground.

"You little beast," cursed Miss Jones, rubbing at the bloody indentations on her wrist indignant that he would dare to do such a thing to her persons.

With the connection broken she wobbled slightly on her feet, the heady rush of feeding from such a pure essence evaporating quickly leaving her feeling drained and needy. Spite and desperation lit up her face as she went to grab at Sam again, the hunger within barely touched.

Sam reacted quickly as her hands snaked down towards him and he scrambled backwards, determined to not let her touch him again. "Leave me alone," he spat out hurriedly before jumping panicked to his feet, nursing his burning wrist carefully to his chest, as he backed away hastily from the woman and her stinging touch.

"Run Sammy run," urged the girl, still desperately struggling to break past the invisible barrier holding her in check.

Sam didn't need to be told twice and ignoring the stings coming from the criss-cross of tiny cuts peppering his small frame that had reopened with his fall, he started at a dash across the basement floor. "Dean!?" he screamed out loudly sprinting up to the stairways, believing that his brother was near. "Dean!"

"Not so fast little boy," crooned Miss Jones after the fleeing child and suddenly Sam felt himself being lifted off his feet to fly backwards to hit the stonewall with a resounding crack.

Screaming in outrage at the sight of the small figure crumpling boneless to the floor the girl felt an unfamiliar sensation tear through her. True uncontrollable anger.

"You monster," cursed the blonde woman and Miss Jones flinched at the hatred pouring out from the open doorway before the bubble of the restraining spell burst to knock her backwards, followed by a more violent explosion that made her slight frame fly backwards as brutally as the child had to hit hard against the opposite wall.

Stunned, she could only watch as the girl stepper forwards, cold fury on her face and she knew that this time her plans had almost certainly gone wrong. The girl ignored her, heading straight for the child and lifted him up from the floor.

As you walked with unconscious child to the stairs she turned back and threw a warning at Miss Jones as she struggled back to her feet. "You ever try to hurt him again Mestra and I will make sure that you are hunted out of existence."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Marjorie raced down the hall trying to keep up with the longer stride of Dean's, already more than a little out of breath. Behind her she could feel her nephew's presence guarding their backs. The air around her felt super charged, as if something explosive had happened and she battled down the urge to run out of the house to safety.

Not for the first time today did she feel utterly inadequate for the task at hand, but somehow Dean Winchester radiated enough confidence for the both of them and she felt more than a little reassured by it.

Eyeing the older Winchester as he raced on ahead she could feel the energy rippling off him. His presence was a threat made physical, as if he would if needs must reach down into the very bowels of hell itself to play slice and dice with the devil to make his brother safe again.

Dean's face was set hard, while his mind was racing. This freaky day had to end soon, he kept telling himself. Once he got his brother back he'd makes things right again for the both of them. Having his brother so little made him way too vulnerable to deal with all this crap that made up their lives. No, what was needed was for his brother to grow up again so that he could keep him safe. And if not totally safe, then at least a little safer.

Guided by Marjorie's instructions he reached the end of the hall way and almost missed in the shadows the small side entrance before he slid to a halt. Pushing open the heavy oak door he peered down the ill lit stairway and steeled his emotions for the battle to come.

Whatever was down there, whatever had his brother would regret the day they had ever crossed the path of a Winchester. Turning his head sideways to the heavily panting psychic he asked. "He's down here, right? What else is with him?"

Marjorie eyes were expressionless as she stilled by his side, her mind reaching out to the basement despite the chill it caused to ripple up her spine. Letting out a deep slow breath she answered tears suddenly filling her eyes. "Dean there was something down there. I could feel it before, but now..."

"Damn it Marjorie is he down there?"

"He was here, but now..." Her face fell open as she added. "I just can't sense him close by anymore."

Hissing at the news Dean cocked his gun and bounded down the stairs two at a time, dread sinking into his guts. Marjorie had to be wrong. Sammy would be down there, unharmed and ready to come home. He had to be.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Standing anxiously in the doorway he fingered for his cell-phone desperate to get his Aunt back. He would have run down the hallway but he knew the quickest and safest thing was to let his aunt know what was happening. Before he could pull the phone from his pocket Ray felt the thud of something heavy against the back of his head and nil else afterwards as he fell unconscious in an untidy heap, the phone spilling to the floor beside him.

Miss Jones stepped over the unconscious man and coolly stepped out of the house, and a swirl of smoke followed after her. She had decided that it was time to burn all bridges, and if that meant the house and all in it so be it. She was done with Burkesville and its dull inhabitants.

It was time to move on to greener, fresher pastures. Time to make new acquaintances and leave the old ones behind. What a pity it would be without the boy.

Once through the main door she smiled at seeing both Wes and Buzz in the back of the police car. How fortuitous she thought as she pulled the passenger door open. Looking at her watch she nodded to herself, happy that there would be time enough.

Wes looked up startled as the door opened and then his face fell open in relief at seeing his mentor. "I knew you'd come for me."

"Of course you did." she answered with a knowing wink. Already the tang of smoke filled the night air followed by the crackle of glass breaking and wood groaning as the fire took hold inside the house.

Wes frowned, wrinkling his nose at noticing the smoke for the first time, turning his face up to her for an explanation. She was smiling, white little teeth, smiling that smile that sent a flutter of fear in his tummy as she reached down for him.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean reached the bottom of the steps in seconds and scanned the dimly lit basement for his brother, his eyes adjusting quickly to the gloom. The area appeared deserted with little of interest apart from the shadowy outlines of two metal doors in the far left corner.

In a run he reached the first door and yanked it open. It was dark inside but there was enough light behind him for him to see that the small cell was empty and he snarled in frustration. Growing ever more desperate he turned to the second door, and by this time Marjorie had caught up with him, though her laboured breathing behind him reflected how hard it had been for the older woman to catch up.

When the second door swung open he was surprised that the room within was well lit, but again was clearly empty. "Damn it Sammy just where the hell are you?" he snarled in frustration spinning around to search out the rest of the basement for any further rooms or exits.

Turning back to the psychic he couldn't mask his fear. "Can you sense him now?"

"No, but I can feel _her_." gasped Marjorie before gripping Dean's arm in support, her face paling at the connection. "Oh my lord she's hurt my Raymond. We have to help my boy."

"This day is going from freaking bad to worse," muttered Dean angrily under his breath and then made a grab for the woman as she reeled against him.

"Oh my god, she's set the bloody house on fire..." gasped Marjorie in horror.

Dean stiffened and shook his head angrily, realising that they had been lured into trap by going into the basement. "This is just plain freaking insane," he cursed out loud and turned sharply to Marjorie and then demanded. "What about Sam? If he's in the house we have to find him before it all goes up."

Marjorie shook her head. "No he's not in the house, of that I'm sure. Unless we get out of here soon we're not going to be able to help him or my Raymond."

'_Or ourselves'_ she muttered under her breath, fear eating away inside of her though she was thankful that at least Dean couldn't sense this from her right now.

She couldn't keep the fear from shaking through her body though, the vision of orange flames chasing through the house too vivid to ignore and it was a welcome relief to have Dean grab at her hand.

"Come on," he barked tersely and started at a fast trot back to the stairway hauling the older struggling woman with him. Already the thick fumes of smoke was seeping down from above as he hurried up the stairs.

Marjorie was choking behind him, the thickening smoke polluting the air around them. Her eyes watered uncontrollably as she leant against Dean's back, her lungs aching already at the lack of oxygen. They had come to a stop at the top of the stairs and Dean grunted out a curse, his voice hitching against the effects of the smoke. "The frigging bitch has locked us in."

He slammed his shoulder against the door but there was no give. He wasn't going to be stopped by a locked door and aimed his gun at the lock. The loud retort as it fired made Marjorie jump behind him but it had the desired effect as the door swung open. The heat and black smoke poured in around them and Dean snatched at Marjorie's hand again and hauled her after him.

He didn't risk racing down the long corridor back along to the main entrance, but instead fled back to the side entrance that had taken him into the house earlier. It led them away from the intense heat and smoke and soon they stumbled outside coughing and spluttering into the cold night air.

Finding enough purchase to stop herself from toppling over Marjorie hugged the brick wall all the while fearing that time was now against them. "Dean, we have to get to Raymond. He's still alive."

A small coughing fit stopped her for a moment but she managed eventually to splutter out "He's at the front of the house."

Despite all that she had been put through that night her little form tried to match Dean's stride as he started to run back to the main entrance. She couldn't stop a small cry of alarm escaping at turning the corner to see the flicker of flames already licking through broken windows.

"Raymond?" she screamed out loudly, her eyes searching the area for him. Sharp eyes though had already spotted him and Dean was soon dragging him out of harms way. She chased after Dean who had thrown her nephew over his shoulder to stagger away from the growing inferno and to safety.

Dean placed Ray down on a small snatch of green away from the now raging fire, thankful that at least the young Sheriff appeared unharmed from the blaze. The only injury he could see was a small head wound already drying at the back of his skull. Courtesy of that bitch Miss Jones no doubt he surmised.

Marjorie fell to her nephew's side, tears spilling freely down her face in open relief. 'Please let him be okay,' she prayed and was rewarded by a small groan as he started to come too.

"He's gonna be fine Marjorie," acknowledged Dean and watched her nod mutely her thanks before turning his attention back to the burning house and kept in check his own tears, remembering a similar fire a few years ago in Farnborough that had tried to take his brother.

His voice betrayed his fears and memories as he asked again, his chest tight with pain. "You're sure Sammy wasn't in there, right?"

"Yes Dean, the boy was not in there. That I can promise you."

Dean got back onto his feet and sprinted back over to the police car. Perhaps the two men inside might be of use again, and he was more than prepared to use his brutal methods of persuasion again if it got him the information he needed in getting his brother back.

The sight that met his eyes on opening the passenger door made him gasp out loud. The body of Wes made a gruesome sight. His thin ferret faced features were even more prominent as his skin was now a translucent parchment worn tight across bone, whilst his withered frame and limbs were frozen in unnatural spasmodic angles.

Dean mouth dropped open a the sight and all he could mutter out as his eyes looked over the dead man was, "Sweet Jesus and Mary!"

Worse than seeing Wes in such an unnatural state was the fact that he was alone in the car. Buzz Strickland was gone.

"Shit," he cursed out loud, thumping the top of the car in anger before running a shaky hand through his hair frightened of what this might mean for his brother. "Sam."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Do you want to wake up now child?" whispered the young woman to the little boy in her arms. For something so small she was surprised at the weight he carried. Since leaving the house and the threat to him behind she had tried to wake him a few times but he remained unresponsive. He was heavy in her slim arms and she halted by the line of trees by the roadside.

Studying him more closely she felt the pang of regret once more. The child looked almost peaceful against her shoulder, his soft breath warm on her skin against the chill in the air. Sinking down to the earth she laid him in her lap and stroked his soft brown hair away from his face, frowning at noticing for the first time the small cuts that nicked his skin. "I'm sorry Sammy. Tomorrow is coming and I must be gone, but I will make it right for you I promise."

Time was running short, already she could feel the tug to pull her from this plane of existence, but she did not want to leave the child alone like this. Already so much damage had been done to him because of her mistakes. "Come on child, please wake up now."

Responding to the command Sam's eyes started to flutter open and as he slowly came awake his face scrunched up in confusion and in pain as a headache beat inside his skull. One moment he was running for the stairs and the next thing he knew he was airborne to hit the wall with a thump. Now he was laying outside in the dark shivering in the blonde lady's lap.

With a start he jerked away, remembering his brother's anger towards the girl. As she went to pull him back to calm him he shrunk away from her touch, his brother's condemnation of her still clear in his head. "You're naughty. Dean said so."

Sighing she tilted her head and gave an impish smile. "Hmm well perhaps your brother's right and I was a little naughty, but I really didn't mean to get you hurt like this."

Sam fingered the back of his head fighting back the pain, watching her carefully as she spoke, distrust visible in his eyes. Pouting he asked testily. "Where's Dean? Did you do something to him too?"

"Shush child, I would not hurt your brother," paling at his distrust again. Sighing she tried to make him understand. "I really cannot stay much longer Sammy and I don't want to leave you out here alone. She may come back…"

"Miss Jones? That horrible lady." gasped Sam, rubbing the tender area on his wrist where she had burnt him, his eyes frantically searching out the dark woods in alarm, "She hurt me…"

"I know and I'm sorry for that too," she ignored how he visibly flinched as she trailed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Do you know where you brother might be now?"

"The bad man hurt him," and Sam couldn't stop a small sob from escaping, blinking a tear away as he shook his head adamantly. "But I don't believe them when they said he wouldn't be okay. Dean's big now just like my daddy. Big and tough."

"So can your father come for you and get help for Dean?" she asked hopefully.

Sam remembered how he had tried to ring his dad earlier to get help only to get that stupid voice message. In his heart he knew he wasn't coming for him and angrily he blinked back his tears and shook his head. "Daddy's not here. There's only Dean and I couldn't help him."

Anxiously he fingered his pocket and felt even more the failure so that the tears fell openly and his small frame jerked silently with swallowed sobs. "I lost it. Dean told me not to lose it."

Startled at the tears running freely down his face the girl pulled him into a tight hug despite his reluctance. "What did you lose, little one? What cause is there for such tears?"

"The phone. Dean gave it to me special like. I must have dropped it when the bad men took me. Do you think he'll be mad at me too?"

"Your brother would rather have you safe than some stupid phone Sam." She patted his cheek gently, wiping away gently with a thumb a tear and kissed the crown of his head and sighed before standing up straight with purpose. "Where was the last place you saw Dean."

Sam had gotten to his feet wobbling slightly refusing to give into the light-headedness that made his vision swim and his tummy turn over but he still managed to answer her. "He was in the car. We'd left the pink haired lady's shop to go to the motel when the bad men stopped us."

Seeing the concern on his face she tried to comfort him. "Dean will be fine. That's why Miss Jones was worried - she could feel him coming for you. Have faith little one.

His eyes brightened with expectation and he tugged at her hand and asked hopefully, "Will you help me find Dean? Please."

She studied the small boy and marvelled at the strength flowing from him. It was easy to see how appealing he had been to her cousin and she marvelled that a human child could contain such natural power like this. Still he was not safe here on this strange plain of mortal existence, a glowing light of attraction in the darkness. Until the spell reversed itself in time he was in danger, and even then she suspected his natural abilities would still be a powerful attractor.

Noting the orange glow spilling over the top of the trees behind the child her eyes widened in surprise. The house was on fire and she just hoped it would take the monster that was once her kin with it. Then she spotted through the tree-line something shiny and black and a smile broke across her face remembering a little tryst in the vehicle the night before. "I think you brother is nearer than you think Sammy. Look."

Sam turned his head to where her finger pointed and his face fell open in delight. The impala stood on the corner of the road, hidden from the house and partially obscured by tall bushes.

All tears were forgotten, all fears flung aside at seeing his brothers' car. Dean had to be here, had come for him just like Miss Jones had feared. Sam danced out of the woman's arms and called out for his brother as he set out at an excited run to the car. "Dean?"

She watched the boy race off back to the black car, his voice calling through the night air expectantly for his brother.

A sense of relief washed over her. The child would be safe with his way too gorgeous older brother, thankfully her neck would be spared and soon the spell would be lifted and their mortal lives would be back to normal.

It was time for her to go home.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean raced back to Marjorie's side and was pleased to see the young Sheriff sitting up, nursing his sore head with a grimace. The woman threw him a worried look, sensing that something bad had taken place. "Dean what is it?"

"That jerk Wes is dead. Looks like he had the fucking marrow sucked from his bones." Shaking his head he continued. "Worse though that bastard Strickland gone. Looks like he tore the frigging handcuff away from the door."

Frowning at the implication she guessed what Dean was thinking. Feeling more of a disappointment than before she sat on the grass and shook her head. "I'm sorry Dean. I just haven't been much help here have I? Your brother could be anywhere now. There is a such an unnatural blanket around this place that I feel totally blocked."

Dean couldn't look at her, his own guilt tearing at his reserves. He had lost his brother. His baby little brother. It didn't bear thinking about if that Jones woman had him now. After seeing what had been done to Wes he felt sick to his stomach on thinking that his frighteningly vulnerable six year brother could be with her still. Or worse.

They both jumped as the shrill tone of Marjorie's cell phone punctuated the awkward silence that had stepped in between them. Marjorie fingers trembled as she fumbled it from her jacket pocket . "Missy," she answered and couldn't keep the soft sob of failure from her voice. "I can't find him…"

"Mazza honey, listen up. Don't you fret so, that little pocket of psychic energy is broadcasting loud and clear again my end."

"Oh thank God", shouted out Marjorie loudly above the roaring noise of the fire eating away fiercely at the house now. She stretched out her hand to grasp Dean's hand and squeeze it in relief. "Sam is safe, Missouri can sense him again."

Dean blinked back his tears, his hand tightening over hers, his voice husky as he asked. "Where is he?"

Marjorie only nodded distractedly at him listening intently to her friend's words. Missouri continued, anxious for them to get to the boy as quickly as possible. "Marjorie you have to feel for him. I know he's nearby but bad things are still out there and he's shining to intensely to be ignored. Get Dean to him now."

"I've tried to sense for him but there is a power here, terrible and old and it hurts Missy. Really hurts to go against it."

"Marjorie Hyacinth Brown if you can go through the trauma of giving birth to 3 of the biggest fattest babies ever born in the State you can take a little incy wincy bit more pain right now. You hear me girl, you find that boy. Now," barked Missouri crossly down the line.

Marjorie gave a nervous hiccupped laugh and looked anxiously over to Dean. "Okay Missy. We'll get to Sammy, I promise and I'll ring you when we do."

"I'll know it honey. But you have to hurry now." answered Missouri, pinching her nose to offset the headache exploding behind her eyes. Already the black shadows that had been skirting around all day in chase of the child seemed more solid.

Steeling herself Marjorie shut off the phone and took a long shuddering breath. Dean looked at her expectantly and she nodded once at him, before casting a reassuring eye at Ray and was thankful that he was sitting up unaided and clearly understood the conversation that had just taken place.

"You can do it Aunt Marje," he whispered in support and she threw him a shaky smile.

Ignoring her own fears she reached out for the child and a kaleidoscope of images hit her minds eye and along with the vision came an out pouring of emotions that flooded over her so that she couldn't keep in check the gasp of discomfort it caused.

She could see too much now.

_Wes screaming painful and long as his life force was siphoned from him. There was Buzz there too, howling a high-pitched wail in uncontrolled panic beside the dying man before sheer terror allowed him to rip the handcuff off the car door and propelled him out of the car and away from such unnatural horror._

_Buzz was sent running blindly into the woods. Afraid, hurting and ready to kill anything that got in his way._

The touch of the psychopath on her mind made her shudder and she tried to focus harder on finding the child. Like a physical punch to the gut she grunted as she pushed past the dark barrier that had kept him from her

_Sam was also running, running back to something familiar, calling out his brother's name expectantly._

"Oh my god," she staggered upright too quickly as she felt the connection break, and staggered dizzily before firm hands held her steady and the demanding green eyes of Dean came back into focus. "Dean he's running back to the car. The impala. Hurry son. Other things are out there too."

Dean's eyes flashed dangerously at the news and he spun round to race back to where he had left his car, his gun held tightly in his hand. "Sam," he called out over the roaring fire. "Sammy."

Ray had gotten to his feet too, and despite the throbbing pain thumping in the back of his skull he went to follow off after Dean, before his aunt's hand stopped him. "No Ray listen up, Dean has to do this."

"But Aunt Marje that bastard Strickland is out there. He may need help." Countered Ray, still readying to go after Dean.

"No Ray, you need to protect yourself too. I can't have you lose your job over this or that demon-wife of yours will fry your butt. You have to clear up this mess, best you can. You need to put the body in the house, and then call in fire services."

Ray blanched at what his aunt suggested but knew that she was right. A decidedly dead and desiccated body in the back of his police car was just too hard to explain away. The fire was the perfect solution no matter how gory it might sound.

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The driver's door was open and Sam flew excitedly towards it, still calling out his brother's name. A leg snaked out of the open doorway and a figure started to emerge.

"Dean?" Sam asked breathlessly, holding on to the doors edge for support as he drew in a breath that felt tight on his battered frame. His vision still swam and he tried to focus on the tall figure straightening up. "Dean?" he asked again before he realised who really stood there, then he screamed.

Buzz Strickland sneered darkly down on the boy as he emerged from the car. He had been trying to hotwire the ignition and get the hell out of Burkesville, but this was an opportunity for revenge to good to ignore.

The little bastard that had caused him so much grief was just a second away from his reach. He was the reason his body was wrecked and bloodied. He was the reason that he was missing an ear.

With blood caked fingers he snatched out and took hold of the screaming child in a tight fist of cloth and lifted the terrified child clear off his feet. With a knife in one hand he sneered. "Lets see how much your brother is gonna like you having yer ear cut off, yer little runt."

At his brother's terrified scream Dean didn't even try to draw to a stop, firing at a run at the bruising figure of Buzz that dared threaten his terrified little brother. Sam fell out of Buzz's arms to land with a thump to the ground watching in horrified fascination as Buzz was spun round at the force of a bullet tearing through his shoulder, spraying the air with a red droplets of blood.

Dean would have fired again but Sam was groggily getting back to his feet and was in the line of fire. "Get down," he screamed at the startled six year old who looked stunned up at him as he raced forward and remained confusedly on his feet.

Buzz stumbled backwards and knew that the kid's older brother would not stop at a wounding shot this time. He could taste the rage emanating from him and did what he could do best since high school, he started to run, afraid of the impact of further bullets as he slunk back into the woods.

Dean skidded to a halt by his clearly shell-shocked little brother and knew that he had to let Buzz go at seeing just how fragile Sam appeared.

A fine spray of crimson marked his little brother's chalky white face and jacket. Blood from Buzz's encounter with one of his bullets he knew but still is shocked Dean to the core at thinking how utterly unprotected Sam had been. How close to death at that maniac's hands he had been.

In a snatch he grabbed up his little brother and fell to his knees rocking him tightly to him. "Its okay Sammy. Its gonna be okay. I've got you now."

At the embrace small fingers twisted into his brother's jacket, and sobs hiccupped through his tiny frame as he dissolved into the safety of his big brother's arms. The tears kept coming and he burrowed his head into his brother's shirt unable to speak, barely able to breathe as his chest hitched with each whimper.

The terror of Buzz Strickland would not be easy to forget.

"Its okay Sammy, don't you cry so," whispered Dean softly his own heart crumbling at the sounds of his brother sobbing so brokenly. "I've got you now kiddo and nothing else bad will touch you. Ever. I promise."

**TBC**

_**Thanks to everyone who has stayed with this story – all your support has been warmly appreciated. I hope you enjoy the epilogue to come! **_


	8. Chapter 8

**Usual disclaimers about owning nothing Supernatural apply! All mistakes, sadly, are all mine! This is the promised epilogue that turned into a full blow chapter! Hope you enjoy!**

_**Written for Starliteyes17 over at LimpSam - STCOL(AR)S. – Happily and always Pimping the Limp!**_

**The hands of time**

**Chapter 8: Safe – for now at least!**

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

_The terror of Buzz Strickland would not be easy to forget._

"_Its okay Sammy, don't you cry so," whispered Dean softly his own heart crumbling at the sounds of his brother sobbing so brokenly. "I've got you now kiddo and nothing else bad will touch you. Ever. I promise."_

**o0o0o0o0o**

He couldn't let go, his fingers were laced so tightly onto his brother's shirt that he pinched skin, but he couldn't let go. This was his safety. Holding on to his brother. Not letting go.

Sam didn't remember the drive back to Somerton. He didn't remember when the tears had stopped or when the damp patch on his brother's shirt became cold against his cheeks. He didn't remember anything except a blood drenched monster holding a knife to his face and his brother stopping him in an explosion of noise and more blood.

Marjorie had driven the impala back to her house with Dean holding the traumatised boy in the back. No matter what was said to him, no matter how gently Dean spoke the child did not respond other than to burrow deeper into his brother's chest.

For his part Dean held his younger brother just as fiercely, the terror of the night not fading away. His little brother had been put through hell it appeared, way too much for any six year old to go through. Judging from his physical appearance Dean knew that it had been more than emotional trauma Sam had suffered and cursed himself again for allowing this to happen to his little brother.

Marjorie's house screamed middle America, nicely placed in a well established tree-lined avenue and on entering it smelt of warm spice and oranges. It was warm and cosy, but all Dean noticed as they were led to the living room was the way Sam clung even tighter to him. "Come on Sammy. It's okay now. You're safe here."

Sam didn't answer still fisting tightly onto his shirt. Sinking into the large sofa Dean threw a look up at Marjorie that made her wince in sympathy. Both brothers were hurting but she didn't have to time to worry about their emotional wants right now, Missouri's warning about protecting Sam from further harm still rang loud in her ears. She busied herself with placing the protective charms in each corner of the room and then set about the rest of the house.

When she had done all that she could do in protecting the youngest Winchester she was able to breathe a little easier again, especially after getting a call from Raymond helping to settle her frazzled nerves even further on hearing that he was heading safely home at long last

Armed with a tray of milk and cookies, and a bottle of antiseptic, a bowl of warm water and a flannel she sat down besides Dean. As she put the tray onto the side table she touched Dean's rigid back to get his attention. "He needs those cuts seen to Dean. Let me help."

Dean let out a deep breath and looked over his brother's body his brow furrowing in concern at seeing the small nicks to his jacket. Then noting the blood stains littered up and down his brother's pant legs he pulled a reluctant Sam into a sitting position only to hear him whimper at the loss of contact. "It's okay Sammy. I need to get you tidied up that's all."

Sam nodded but still kept his hand twisted in his brother's shirt, his eyes bright threatening new tears. After a fashion Dean managed to wrangle the jacket off him wincing at seeing the cuts running up his arms. When he got Sam's jeans off next he couldn't help but curse out loud at the array of long slashes on his legs and the state of his bloodied scuffed up knees.

Not wanting to know the answer he still asked. "How did you get so many owies little guy?"

For the longest second Sam didn't respond then turned his grubby tear filled face up to his brother. "The bad men chased me and I run into this wire stuff." His chin wobbled as he added. "I'm sorry Dean, I ruined all my nice new stuff didn't I?"

Dean drew a shaky hand through his brother hair, lifting the bangs away that were falling over his eyes, blinking away his own need for tears. "Don't you worry about that Sammy. I'm real proud of you for being such a brave boy."

Sam shook his head miserably, "Nuh huh, I wasn't. I cried when the mean man put me in the dark place. I couldn't help it Dean."

Dean couldn't trust himself to speak at first and instead cradled his brother to him again, rubbing his back in comfort. Feeling his brother finally start to relax he whispered on the crown of his head. "You were bravest little brother ever. The best."

Marjorie sucked in a breath, reading the emotions spilling from both brothers too intensely. Compelled into action she started to dab as carefully as she could at the tiny wounds on Sam's arms and legs eliciting only the odd whispered hiss from the child.

When she had finished she tucked a light throw around both brothers earning a thankful nod from Dean. "I'm going to brew a pot of coffee and make you guys some supper."

**o0o0o0o0o**

With a lot of patience and cajoling Dean managed to get his brother to eat a light meal of warm milk and peanut butter sandwich and then was able to get even more of the story of what his brother had gone through.

It was not a pretty story to hear and it came out slow, in broken little words at first, but the picture slowly built up of what Buzz, Wes, Miss Jones had put his brother through and all the damage they had done to him.

That's when the anger truly set in cold with Dean and would have happily killed with his bare hands that bastard Strickland. Now he just prayed that there would be a chance to run into him at some later date and finish the job.

Then there was the continued threat of that bitch Miss Jones. Holding his brother tightly to him his insides churned, knowing that at some point he would have to hunt her down. Sam wouldn't be safe no matter what size he was with that evil bitch around, and affter what she had done to Wes he was left with no doubt as to her power.

There was one final question Dean had to ask, "Sam how did you get out of the house? Away from the bad woman." One minute it seemed that his brother had been in the clutches of that uber-bitch Jones only to then reappear alone in the woods.

"The pretty lady took me outside," yawned Sammy sleepily, the warm milk and a full tummy starting to take effect as he leant his head against his brother's shoulder.

"Pretty lady?" asked Marjorie softly raising a questioning eyebrow at the little boy and for the first time that evening was rewarded by Sam actually turning around to look at her without the familiar look of terror in his eyes.

"You know, the girl that Dean was cross with," answered Sam with a small shrug, fingering his brother's leather braid that circled his wrist absently.

Dean was instantly alert. "The girl in the red dress Sammy? Is that who took you outside."

"I told her that she was naughty but she said sorry. Honest," sensing his brother stiffen at his remarks he was instantly concerned. "I know I'm not suppose to talk to strangers but she seemed nice and didn't make me scared like the others did. Did I do wrong?"

"No Sammy, you did good – really good kiddo," answered Dean quickly noting the haunted look returning to his brother's solemn face, and gently cuddled him to him again before asking. "Do you remember what she said to you?"

Sam sighed softly snuggling up closer, enjoying the comfort as he answered. "She said she was sorry but that she had to go." He threw up a small smile up to his brother. "I think she was happy that you were coming. That you'd stop all the bad people."

Dean cocked a confused eyebrow over at Marjorie and saw her shrug her shoulders in return. "Dean I think that whatever spell that girl cast will wear off soon enough. She didn't mean to hurt your brother. That much I've always sensed."

"But she did though." answered Dean darkly, not happy with his own role in what had happened to his brother.

Sam chose that moment to yawn loudly again before curling up into a smaller ball, fingers still looped around his brother's leather bracelet. Battling the closing eyelids he sighed softly. "I knew that you find me Dean."

Dean nodded watching as the exhausted boy finally succumbed to sleep, wrapped securely in his arms. He stayed like that, curled into a tight huddle in his brother's lap as Dean and Marjorie debated what to do next.

"He can't remain like this and we shouldn't be waiting for whatever hoodoo mumbo jumbo spell that girl cast to wear off. Its not safe with that Jones bitch is still out there," snapped Dean wearily, before adding. "And god knows what else might be out there waiting to take another chunk out of him."

Marjorie shrugged and patted his knee, "You have done all you can Dean. Now you have to have to be patient and simply wait for this spell to be reversed. Sam is safe here."

"Bloody fucked up magic," griped Dean still feeling the burden of guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders and his voice shook as he confessed. "Don't you see, after today I just can't trust myself to keep him safe."

"Oh Lord Dean I don't think Sam sees it like that. If ever there was a case of hero worship going on its there in your little brother. Its clear that he adores you."

Dean shook his head angrily. "Well he shouldn't. Look at the bloody mess I've gotten him into. Some fucked up big brother I've been for him recently."

"Dean honey, if it wasn't for you that little boy wouldn't be here right now." Dismissing his scowl Marjorie leant and kissed him lightly on cheek, adding. "And if it counts for anything I think you're an awesome big brother too."

**o0o0o0o0o**

The next morning both brothers were stiff. Sam from his healing cuts and bruises and Dean from cradling his sleeping brother in his arms all night. Dean didn't mind though, just thankful that his brother was safe again. For now at least.

It seemed a good nights sleep had done the world of good for his little brother, already more communicative though still very clingy, but hungry enough to demand breakfast much to Dean's relief.

Ray had turned up earlier with the stuff from their motel room and was sitting down at the kitchen table supping hot coffee when the brothers came into the kitchen.

Sam blanched at the sight of a stranger and instinctively clutched his brother's leg and Dean sighed. "It's okay Sammy. This here is Ray, Marjorie's nephew. He helped me get you back last night."

Shyly Sam ducked his head from behind his brother and looked at the seated Sheriff with wide eyes. "Thank you Sir."

Ray threw him a smile and Marjorie hustled them both over to the large oak table. "Sit down you two and have some breakfast. I've made oatmeal."

Sam couldn't help but giggle at the face Ray pulled behind his aunt's back, slicing his hand exaggeratedly across his throat as he whispered a warning. "Go for the toast kiddo. It's the only thing she can cook that doesn't come out of a can."

Marjorie spun round and smacked her nephew lightly over the back of the head but made some toast without protest. The oatmeal was too thick and lumpy to serve up anyway, resembling more setting concrete than food. Truth be told cooking was not a skill the psychic had ever mastered.

Dean visibly felt himself relax at hearing his brother giggle so freely. Damn it was good to see the boy acting like a little kid again.

Still sporting a way too big t-shirt that Marjorie had dug up for him to wear Sam looked incredibly small sitting at the large table. But at least he was still with them, thought Dean appreciatively, a little battered but still inherently the same innocent child that he remembered as he watched him blow bubbles in his glass of milk.

Fingering a slice of toast Sam looked around at his big brother and smiled up big huge dimples. "Its good Dean, not burnt like daddy makes."

"See Raymond, finally someone appreciates my culinary expertise," responded Marjorie as she plopped down next to him and threw a happy smile at the little boy. "What are you two going to do today?"

Tilting his head towards his brother Dean nudged his little brother, "We're going to the Mall. Sam needs to see a certain man. Right little dude?"

Frowning suddenly Sam shook his head sadly, "Daddy said I couldn't go, remember?"

Punching him lightly on his arm Dean grinned at him. "Well I'm not dad and I say we're going."

Sam leant into him and laughed happily, the white moustache of milk on his upper lip brushing off against his brother's t-shirt. "You're the best big brother ever!"

Dean rolled his eyes and laughed in return as he wiped away the smudge of milk, "And your just plain soppy!"

"Nuh huh, you are!" countered Sam brightly enjoying the teasing.

"You wish, dude," responded Dean with a wink. "Now eat your breakfast, then you can get showered, dressed and then were out of here to hopefully give Marjorie some peace and quiet for a while."

Sam asked with a pleading quality to his voice. "Can I wear my Spiderman t-shirt again?"

"What? And stink out the line to Santa's Grotto. No way dude - you have to wear something clean," frowned Dean in return at his brother's sudden attachment to a comic book hero.

Ray quickly interjected at seeing the pout on the little boy's face. "Hey Sam I brought your gear over from Burkesville. I think I saw an awesome Wolverine t-shirt in a bundle of your stuff." He leaned across and gave him a knowing wink. "Personally I think the little hairy man with the titanium claws is way cooler than that pretty boy Spiderman…"

"Yay Wolverine. He's cool." nodded Sam happily, before thinking on it again. "Still Spiderman is way cooler."

Marjorie watched the scene and sighed happily that the terror of yesterday seemed to be fading fast from the little boy. Still she knew that the child needed their protection. Pulling out a brightly corded necklace she passed it over to Dean. "Missouri said Sam should wear this, until you know, things go back to normal. It should stop him broadcasting so intensely."

Sam squeaked out indignant at the colour of the pendant attached to the cord shaking his head vigorously, "No way. It's pink."

"Yes you are," warned Dean roughing up his little brother's hair. "With hair this long every one thinks you look like a girl anyways."

"I don't look like no stupid girl," muttered Sam at his brother a scowl on his face as Dean looped the necklace over his head.

"Sure you do Samantha!"

"Dean your such a jerk." giggled Sam uncontrollably as his brother tickled his bare feet under the table.

"And you're a ticklish jello monster." laughed Dean easily in return at his squirming little brother.

**o0o0o0o0o**

The queue at the Mall seemed eternal but Sam didn't seem to notice, his excitement growing exponentially as they neared the front. Santa's grotto, tastefully decorated in fluorescent two-foot high green elves, plastic reindeer and mock snow was everything Dean hated about Christmas. But to Sam it was sheer magic.

After an almost two hour wait all the while holding tightly onto his brother's hand Sam went through the glitter curtain into the small room labelled 'The Grotto' where Santa sat next to two large sacks of presents.

Dean had tried to keep his face as neutral as possible but seeing his brother stare wide-eyed in wonder at the sight of Santa Claus sitting on what only could be described as a gold sprayed polystyrene throne made him smile in return.

Studying the man sitting on the chair Dean had to cast him an appreciative eye. He really did look the part, and as he searched out the join for the beard he realised that it was real. Raising an eyebrow in surprise he led Sam closer to the man, keeping a tight hold on his little brother's hand as he did so. Sam jiggled excitedly by his side but stilled the moment Santa spoke. "What's your name young man?"

His mouth fell open but no sound came out. Dean found himself answering for him nudging his suddenly shy brother forwards. "It's Sam."

Santa threw Sam a warm smile and knowing wink. "So Sam have you been a good boy this year?"

Sam let his hand me taken in a soft shake. The gloved hand felt warm and comforting and he stepped up closer to the chair, and finally he found his voice. "I try to be good but sometimes…"

"Hmm, well I think Sam that you have been really good this year. Or your brother wouldn't have taken you to see me."

Dean frowned, wondering how he knew their sibling status. Sam though merely nodded and whispered a little frightened. "Daddy said I couldn't come but Dean doesn't care what daddy thinks. He won't get into trouble will he?"

Santa smiled and patted his shoulder and winked in return up at Dean. "No son, your brother will be okay as long as you two stick together."

Sam beamed up at him, the weight of his confession lifting the worry off him. Santa spoke again, his voice deep and gentle as he looked at the boy with so much hope on his face. "I think you need a special present, don't you? And I have just the thing for you."

Routing around in one of the large sacks he pulled out a long oblong green box, wrapped in a red ribbon and handed it over to the suddenly mute again boy. Dean coughed behind him, a little fazed by his brother's open adoration of the man in the red suit.

Sam took that as his cue and he took the present offered with a shy smile. Looking up through his bangs he leant in closer to Santa and whispered. "Can my brother have a present? He's been good too."

Dean shook his head and threw a warning look at his brother. "Sam, no dude."

Laughing a hot belly chuckle Santa threw the little boy a knowing wink and pulled out a smaller gaudily wrapped present from the sack. "Of course your big brother needs a present. Thanks for reminding me Sammy."

His face flushing red Dean squirmed as Sam raced to his side to shove the smaller box in to his brother's hand excitedly. Turning back to the chair Sam whispered as he fingered his own present. "Thank you Santa. I'll try to be good all next year. I promise"

As they left the small enclosure Dean couldn't help but think that had to be the weirdest encounter he had ever had with a shopping Mall Santa. Still judging by the dreamy expression on his little brother's face as he hugged the green box it was all good.

**o0o0o0o0o**

Sam stubbornly refused to open his present there and then, adamant that they had to wait until they got back to Marjorie's so that she could share in some of the fun. Dean in return had managed to get a token gift for the woman after some gentle nudging from his little brother and inwardly felt quite pleased with himself.

The morning had gone better than he could have hoped, the car side window had been fixed, his brother was insanely happy despite queuing for Santa for half the morning and best of all the terrified little boy of last night already seemed a distant memory.

Things were finally looking up for the Winchester brothers. Now all they had to do was wait. Wait for the 6ft 4in giant of a little brother to return.

Sadly looking down at the little six year old Dean felt a pang of regret. The easy air of the little boy would be submerged again under a mountain of loss and doubt that shadowed the older Sammy. If he could keep that pain from returning to his brother he would have been happy to scrub toilets for a year, or worse.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Marjorie had forgotten just how much energy it took to keep up with a six year old. All her three boys were grown men now and lived life at a thankfully more gentler pace.

On his return from the Mall Sam had rushed excitedly into the house, hooting with excitement at how well his morning had gone. Talking ten to a dozen the words fell out of his mouth as he danced around her, describing in all its lurid details the wonder of Santa Land, the Mall and most importantly Santa himself.

Dean stood in the kitchen doorway watching him skip around the older woman, offering her an apologetic shrug when she glanced his way.

When the small boy had told his morning adventure to the patiently nodding psychic he calmed down enough to remember just why he had made Dean rush back to the house. "Come on Dean. Give it to her now and we can all open our presents together."

Marjorie looked surprised as Sam pulled his brother hurriedly into the kitchen.

"Just to say thanks," muttered Dean under his breath as Sam pulled the bag from behind his back and shoved it into her hands.

"Oh boys, you didn't have to," blushed the woman, admiring the beautifully wrapped gift as she pulled it from the bag.

"Dean made the lady in the shop wrap it up all pretty for you. I picked the paper cos' it's the same colour as your hair so I knew you'd like it," gushed Sam excitedly as he sat down besides her, fingering his own wrapped present expectantly.

Marjorie laughed at the connection and reached over to give the child a small hug. "Thank you Sammy. The paper is just perfect.

"Go on Marjorie. Open it." demanded Sammy, watching her face in fascination as she tore the wrapping apart.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she viewed the cook book. Obviously Ray's warning about her culinary abilities had been well heeded. "I just love Jamie Oliver. This is the nicest present ever boys."

She leant over and gave Sam a kiss only to watch him rub it away hurriedly, mortified at having his big brother watching such a scene. Only girls got kisses like that.

Dean chuckled at his reaction and sat down at the table, fingering the small gift he had been given as an extra from Shopping Mall Santa. Eyeing his little brother he gave him a knowing nod and Sam took that as his cue to tear into his present.

On taking the box lid off he stopped, his jaw falling open in honest surprise. Small fingers run over the figure in awe. "Wow, look what Santa gave me."

He pulled out a very expensive figure out for his brother to see not expecting the frown of disbelief he caught on his brother's face. "Dean, it's the best present ever…."

Dean choked back a cough of surprise as his brother wrapped his arms around his neck, the plastic figure clunking on his back still firmly gripped in one of Sam's little hands. He could see the same look mirrored on Marjorie's face. "Wow kiddo, Spiderman! Santa's sack sure has changed since I was a kid. It's amazing what ten bucks gets you now days…."

"Its not the money", admonished Sam softly "Its magic silly."

"Yes Sam, magic is everywhere this time of year." remarked Marjorie softly, tears filling her eyes at the visible the joy the gift was bringing the little boy. "

"Dean what did Santa give you?" asked Sam eagerly pulling away from hugging his brother anxious to see what the present was.

Dean swallowed dryly at noting how expectantly his brother watched him, and carefully opened the thin present. He smiled ruefully as he pulled out a dangling rainbow key ring. Gaudy and very plastic but on seeing the look of genuine delight on his brother's little face he chuckled. "Just what I've always wanted."

Sam hugging his own special present to his chest sighed happily as he watched the plastic key-ring glitter brightly as it spun around in Dean's fingers. "It's really pretty. You must have been really good too."

Marjorie snorted out loud at the confused look on the older Winchester's face. "Yep Sammy I think your right. Santa just adores your older brother too it seems."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Another shot of whiskey and the pain seemed just a little less sharp. Buzz fingered the dressing on his head absently and poured out another slug of alcohol. After last night the bar was a sanctuary of calm where he could sit alone in a dark booth and drink himself senseless and believe that the name Winchester never existed.

His face wore the marks of his encounter with the older Winchester brother. A broken nose, fat split lips, cut brow and a left eye swollen shut. With the wad of white bandaging stuck to his scalp, he looked more like a road accident victim than your average small town psychopath. The patching up had taken place in a Somerton's back room barbershop by an old acquaintance handy with a needle and thread had been done under the crudest conditions and only the general doses of regular alcohol kept the pain in check.

As he knocked back another shot a cold grip touched his shoulder and warily he looked up. The delicate features of Miss Jones looked down on him, a small smile playing on her lips as she felt him quiver with a small whimper of panic tight in his aching throat.

Soothingly she stroked his shoulder with cold fingers. "Mr Strickland, don't look so alarmed. Anyone would think that you're afraid of little old me. Its not as if I intend to eat you or anything."

"You stay away from me. I saw what you did to Wes and it weren't natural," shuddered Buzz yanking away from her touch abruptly, inching quickly further down the booth despite the flaring pain that rippled through his battered body and ribs. The horror of last night was still too fresh in his mind not to know the monster she was.

"Oh what a great opinion you have of yourself. You think that I would need _that_ from the likes of you Mr Strickland?" sneered Miss Jones as she sidled in beside him. "I believe I would sooner starve."

"Well I didn't see you going freaking hungry last night," answered Buzz as he knocked back with a shaky hand another shot. He belched and the sour smell of whiskey wrapped around him and Miss Jones nose wrinkled in disgust.

Waving away the lingering fumes the older woman eyed him carefully. "The thing about Wes is that he had something special he could give me. That's why I kept him around."

"Yeah he was a freaking psychic retard," muttered Buzz as he laughed ironically, "You would have thought that someone like him would have seen it coming, wouldn't ya?"

"He let me down Mr Strickland. He led Hunters to my home. That couldn't go unpunished. Loyalty is everything. Right?" demanded Miss Jones, before carefully adding. "I did what I had to, nothing more, nothing less."

Buzz frowned then half nodded, his good eye heavy from the alcohol and pain. "He was an ugly little bastard anyway. Couldn't stand straight without pissing his pants in fear half the time."

Grinning more assuredly now she could see the small cogs of Buzz Strickland mind starting to work overtime and she continued. "But you are different aren't you Buzz?" she paused and threw him a bright smile. "You don't mind me calling you Buzz do you?"

He shook his head, his good eye watering as he felt the tingle of her fingers sliding over the still throbbing knife wound on his arm.

She squeezed gently eliciting a grunt of pain from the man and smiled in satisfaction at the response. "I can make it this all so much more enjoyable for you Buzz. I have need of man like you and you know that I can pay well for that service. I think you and I can come to a mutual understanding here."

Buzz laughed despite the ripple of pain it caused to wash over his bruised face. "Of course we can Miss Jones."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Missouri listened to her friend relate the mornings events with a growing smile on her round face. "Mazza girl, well if I hadn't heard this so early in the day from you I would have believed that you'd been on the gin again!"

"Gin! After a day like yesterday you're bloody lucky that I haven't pickled my liver with the stuff." remarked Marjorie with a small chuckle.

"I know. I'm just really thankful that those boys had you to turn to. They have so little in their lives to trust in now. Thanks for being there for them."

"Well I could say it's all been a pleasure but I'd be lying. Honestly those Winchester boys seem to live their lives need deep in trouble Missy. How they cope with it, day in, day out, with cracking under the pressure is beyond me."

"They're made of sterner stuff than you and I girlfriend. It's what makes them so special."

Nodding Marjorie quickly added her own thoughts. "Speaking of special its just amazing to see Dean cope with Sammy being so small again. He's totally attuned to his little brother that it's quite spooky to watch at times."

"There's nothing unusual about that at all. That boy virtually raised young Sammy since he was a baby. Dealing with a six year old Sam is as natural to him as breathing is." answered Missouri sadly recalling all the times she had tried to intercede on the boys behalf with their intransigent father and his unique way of child rearing.

"Their father was one stubborn bastard Marjorie, and ruled those boys with a fist of iron at times, but it kept their bond solid. It kept them alive I suppose."

"Lets just hope they can continue with it once Sam is big again. It would be a shame to see it disappear," responded Marjorie, her fingers absently tracing the spine of the cook book that she had been given by the brothers.

"Oh Marjorie, I have to confess that no matter what age he is Sam is a darling. And believe me when you say big that he certainly is," smiled Missouri down the phone line adding, "And just like his brother he can melt hearts with a simple smile and a glimpse of those puppy dog eyes of his."

"Lord help me then. Just how is a girl supposed to cope with two gorgeous Winchester boys in tow," giggled Marjorie with a blush to her cheeks, already too aware of the magnetism that Dean could project with a simple look.

"Still girl, I'm surprised you let them go to Mall like that, with only the pendant as protection for the boy," admonished Missouri softly. It vexed to be so far away and she knew she had to trust in her friend to do her best for the boys but the thought of them walking around relatively unprotected made her guts churn..

Sighing Marjorie answered. "Missy, they needed to go. Both of them. It was a risk but it was well worth it just to see the joy it brought."

"A Kodak moment, eh?"

"Yes my old friend, it most certainly was."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Sam scratched his arms absently, the itching from the healing cuts more of an irritant now than anything else. He lay on his tummy on the carpet in the living room, engrossed in one of books that Marjorie had brought down from the attic along with a number of childhood stuff that she had ferreted away as her own boys grew up.

The little box had kept the small child entertained all afternoon and into early evening leaving the carpet littered with an odd assortment of toys, colouring books and reading books.

Dean had taken his brother's distraction as his chance to do more research into the Jones woman, and was managing to build up a portfolio on her business activities. Still it was frustrating not being able to get out there and hunt down her boney ass straight away.

Instinctively he knew that tracking her down had to be his main priority after Sam was normal again. That damned witch had had her claws into his little brother way to close for comfort to ever allow her near him ever again.

All the while as he searched down his quarry he kept a careful eye on his brother over the laptop. No matter how secure the house felt he wasn't going to take any chances with his little brother. The Glock was a comforting weight in the back of his jeans and he had rechecked the lines of salt and charms dotted around the large house twice already to make sure that nothing, but nothing, was getting into the house without going through him first.

For his part Sam loved the musty smell of the Roald Dahl book that had been ferreted out of the dusty box. It was like having his own personal treasure chest From time to time his small lips could be seen going over an unfamiliar word but it didn't distract him enjoying 'The Twits' with the odd explosive giggle or snort of laughter as the couple did the vilest things to one another.

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Outside of the house the small grey figure of the girl lingered, sensing the boy within but was frustrated at every attempt of entry. She was sure he could hear her calling. Why then wouldn't he come out and play? It was so lonely this waiting. "Come on little boy, come out and play with me," she called again.

Behind the house another figure rolled like mist over the backyard, attracted to what was inside, but like the small ghostly figure of the girl waiting desperately at the front he just couldn't get to the prize inside.

Marjorie sat with a warming cup of her coffee in her hand, eyeing the dark shapeless figure through the kitchen window with an acknowledging grunt, thankful that Dean's vigilance was paying off. No nasty ghoulies were getting into her house tonight.

When she strolled back to the boys she was surprised to see Sammy curled up in his brothers lap fast asleep on the sofa, the Spiderman figure firmly clenched in one hand. Dean shushed her gently with a finger to his lips before whispering. "He's knackered himself out Marge, what with the new toys, new everything. I don't think I can remember him being so happy…."

Absorbing the implications of his words Marjorie sank down besides him. "I know how bad a time you boys had it growing up, but there were good times too. I'm sure of that or your brother wouldn't love you so much."

Patting his leg she got up quickly. "Come on Dean lets get the little guy up to bed. I think he deserves a good night sleep, don't you?"

Dean nodded and followed her up the stairs. Marjorie had given them a cosy bedroom at the back of the house that had two single beds. She knew there would be no way Dean would sleep apart from his brother right now and this was the ideal setup for them both.

Earlier that day she had found an old night light in the attic and she switched it on now bathing the ceiling in a pretty kaleidoscope of colours. Deans stripped his brother down to t-shirt and carefully tucked him into bed. Satisfied that his brother was deeply asleep he straightened quickly to scan with cautious eyes around the room, quickly taking in the deep line of salt on the window ledge and around the doorway.

Marjorie sensing his concerns squeezed his arm and started to guide him out of the room. "It will be okay Dean. I'll leave the hallway light on. Nothing is getting into this house for him tonight. You need to take a break and get some supper."

"No Marjorie, if you don't mind I'll think it's best if I stay with him. If he wake in a strange room he might be scared…." Dean shrugged unwilling to step out of the door.

Marjorie knew that she wasn't going to persuade him to do anything else. "Okay Dean. I'll bring a tray up to you. You need to try and get some rest yourself."

**o0o0o0o0o0o**

Dean woke to a grumbling tummy and he instantly recalled being forced to eat a half cooked in the middle but still incredibly burnt on the outside pizza that Marjorie had dished up for supper last night. He should have heeded Ray's warning more seriously he realised as the burn of acid made its way up his throat.

Groaning he sat up, cranking his eyes open noting the room was bathed in gentle sunshine streaming in through the thin pastel curtains. He swivelled his head round to see how his brother had fared during the night and cursed softly. He had expected a different sight, but there sleeping soundly was his little brother of yesterday. The damned spell was yet to be broken.

Dejectedly he took his stuff and headed for the bathroom down the hall. He really needed to brush his teeth to be free of the taste of pizza, and then a long hot shower called his name.

The shower was pretty powerful and he let the hot spray run down his back as he leant against the tiled wall, aware that he had another day of big brother sitting ahead Not that he minded it but he was really starting to miss his major pain in the ass older Sammy.

It was the high pitched scream that broke him from his thoughts, followed by a distinct thud and a loud shout of surprise. Jumping out of the shower, wrapping a towel round his waist and grabbing his gun he raced down the hallway leaving a trail of wet foot prints behind him as he burst back into the bedroom where he had left his brother.

Marjorie had her back to him, but what caught his attention was the incredibly welcome sight of his brother standing a good head and half taller over the older woman.

Dean grinning wildly let the gun fall idly to his side before stepping past the clearly still shocked Marjorie and reached for his brother in a quick embrace before pushing him back at arms length to study him better. "You still got all your fingers and toes little brother?"

"What the hell is going on? asked Sam, a blush of pink on his cheeks at being scrutinised by two pairs of eyes as he stood butt naked with only a hastily grabbed pillow for modesty. "I wake up in some strange room to have her," he jabbed a suspicious finger in Marjorie's direction, "scream like some freaking banshee."

Marjorie eyes widened at being called a banshee. Sniffling slightly she bent down to retrieve one of the towels that she had dropped onto the floor and handed it with a twinkle in her eye at the clearly confused younger brother. "Here, I think this will be better used than the pillow."

Huffing slightly Sam snatched up the towel with a small nod of thanks and wormed it around his slim hips, before dropping the pillow back onto the bed with a scowl. Determinedly he turned back to his brother his jaw clenching and unclenching under a barrage of strange emotions, "Dean, what the frigging hell is going on?"

Still dripping wet Dean shook his head to stop the droplets from running from his scalp into his eyes. "Sam it's a long story. Lets get dressed and I'll fill you in. At least lets try and spare Marjorie's blushes here. Two naked Winchester eyes may be too much for any mere mortal woman to take in at once."

Marjorie chortled behind him and slapped him gently on his arm. "Dean honey with three grown boys of my own and two husbands along the way you've got nothing that I haven't seen before boy."

Sam's blush deepened as she threw him a knowing wink. "Its nice to make your acquaintance Sam Winchester. Come on down for breakfast when your both fit for this lady's company!"

o0o0o0o0o0o

As much as he tried to grasp the facts Sam just couldn't believe the story that had been told to him by both his brother and the pink-haired Marjorie. Finally he was forced to accept the strange reality of being turned into a child again when Dean showed him the picture of them both with Santa yesterday.

Fingering the photo in shock, his mouth hanging open in amazement he suddenly looked far younger than his twenty four years as he looked at his brother with trusting eyes. "Dean, this is, umh, well you know, its …."

"Incredible?" interjected Dean smiling at his normally eloquent brothers lack of ability to string a sentence tighter.

He had cautiously fudged some of the facts of what had actually happened to his brother, especially the reason why it had all started in the first place. If Sam didn't remember then who was he to tell him and make him madder than hell at him. They had been walking a fine line between anger and mistrust for the last few months as it was.

"Wow!" came back Sam as his face scrunched up in thought. "I think I can remember some of it. But it's like trying to recall a memory from almost twenty years ago, all fuzzy and I'm not sure what's real or not."

"What do you remember Sam?" asked Marjorie curious to see what he had retained. She had bitten her tongue a few times already that morning listening to Dean only telling him half the facts. Still she had to go with what Dean thought best. He knew his brother better than anyone. A half lie here, an avoidance of the truth, in the end it was down to Dean to tell his brother the true story.

Throwing his brother a shy smile Sam finally answered with a knowing nod. "Just Dean and really liking Spiderman."

Dean frowned, "Nothing else. Nothing about Miss Jones? Or Buzz?"

"Nah, just you taking care of me. Like you always did." answered Sam softly. "Guess it's all I needed to remember. Nothing else was important maybe."

Letting out an exhale of relief Dean felt like a worm wriggling off the hook, realising how lucky he was that Sam's mind had held on to only the good things. The nightmare of his abduction and near death the night before had faded into nothing with the return of big Sam.

Then Sam had to ruin it all by saying, "Hey Dean, you know I do remember something." He paused and threw his brother a dark look that threatened pay back at a later date. "I rang you tell I felt something hinkey in town and you put the damn phone down on me, didn't you."

Dean nodded guiltily muttering under his breath. "Might have done."

Sam's eyes narrowed as he added. "It's all connected to that girl in the red dress. Right?" Realisation dawned clear not needing to hear his brother's answer and his lips thinned as he hissed out. "God you are such a little whore!"

Dean put up his hands to placate the sudden anger on his little brother's face. "Hey you said it Sammy boy. Your brain is all mushed up, like Swiss cheese. Yer can't be sure what was real or not."

Marjorie chuckled as she buttered her one culinary skill the toast. "Oh I think he has a better understanding than you think Dean."

**o0o0o0o0o**

After staying one more day at Marjorie's Dean felt confident that his baby brother was back to normal. A big moaning pain in the ass who was still royally pissed at him that is.

After saying their goodbyes to Ray and Marjorie, promising the odd phone call and email to keep them updated, it felt good being back on the road again. Even with a festering Sam, big and pouting, by his side.

No matter how much he tried to remember the last few days were still a blurry mess of half images and sounds. Sighing Sam finally asked. "So this Miss Jones character sucked the life out of this guy and was going to do the same to me. Sounds like I had a really nice time of things for a while."

Dean didn't answer, his throat tightening at the rebuke no matter how innocently given and his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

Sam lost in his won thoughts didn't notice his brother shutting down. "So it was all because we were psychics. Do you think she was connected to the demon?"

Dean looked at him more than a little startled at the connection his brother was making. "I don't think so. But then honestly I have no idea what she is, how she does the things she did or what she really wanted with you. That's why were gonna hunt her down and put a stop to her, once and for all."

Sam looked over at his brother and noticed for the first time just how worn down he looked and any anger he might have wanted to harbour melted away. "Hey Dean you know I may have said some crazy stuff back there at Marjorie's but that's just what it was, me being pissy and mouthing off. What happened was not your fault. Not really."

"Goddammit Sammy. I fool around with some magical chick and you almost get killed because of it. Of course it's my stupid fault." Dean snapped hard, aching inside that his brother had absolved him of any blame so unconditionally. "I let you down Sam."

Shaking his head Sam offered up. "You can't beat up on yourself like this man. So what if you got laid by a hot magic girl and then crap happened. All I remember is that you kept me safe, watching my back every step of the way as usual. Makes you kind of the good guy in the end, big brother."

Grinning weakly at the praise Dean whispered. "If you say so little brother."

"Besides gotta love you for taking me to Santa," added Sam, rewarding his brother with a large grin as he pulled something from under his feet. "This is way cool."

Watching his little brother play with his Spiderman figure brought a laugh to Dean's lips. "God you were always such a dork little brother. Why couldn't you have asked for an GI Joe, a real man's action figure, rather than a wimpy Spiderman?"

Sam rolled his eyes in mock hurt, "Hey don't diss the Spiderman dude."

**o0o0o0o0o**

As the black car sped out of Somerton on the opposite side of town another car slowly pulled away from watching Marjorie's house. She had observed with cold indifference as the owner of the house left earlier that morning, any thoughts of extracting from the woman details of where her prize had gone dismissed realising the repercussions it might visit down on her later. Having Hunters on your tail was never an enjoyable experience and was for the time being to be avoided at all cost.

Still as she swung the car away she could still feel the ripples of the mutation of the child back to the man the morning before, and as she left tree lined street she could feel the tug in her stomach as he got further away from her.

Sucking in a deep breath she could taste in the air his essence, it lingered heavy to her senses, altered but still as sweet, and that in itself was a comfort.

One day she would have to reconnect with this most unusual boy she told herself, sensing a darkness trying to wrap itself around him. A familiar darkness that she had enjoyed an eon ago.

Now though was the time to disappear from the Hunters' radar. The big brother was a threat that was not so easily dealt with and with her latest addition to her family, Buzz, still not up to par she had no other option than to lay low. In time she would be able to seek him out again. In time she could make him her own.

**The End.**

_Okay, so this wee epilogue went into major ramble ala full blown chapter mode! Hope you've enjoyed it all! I'd love to get your thoughts. Thanks again for all the support and simply amazing reviews along the way. Rozzy._


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